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incognit0slut · 1 year

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Buried in the pillow

Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

A night of restless sleep ends better than expected. Based on;

warning: 18+ explicit content including edging, a little chocking, sexual intercourse, and dom spence

words: 4,6k (I got carried away😭)

a/n: am I supposed to be writing something else? Yes. Will it stop me from writing a slow, lazy sex scene? NO

MASTERLIST

“…you’re buried in the pillow, yeah you’re so loud…”

THERE WAS NO DENYING THE WARM FLOOD OF AROUSAL RUSHING IN HER SYSTEM. Y/n inhaled a sharp breath, her heart rate climbing in her chest she could feel her pulse throbbing through her entire body. She readjusted herself along her pillow and closed her eyes before exhaling, her thighs pressed together as she tried not to let her mind travel into any lewd thoughts.

But the sound of his shallow breathing was enough to make her terribly aware of the abrupt shift in her body. She could feel the dull, needy throb between her legs merging with that burn of sheer want for him low in her stomach. Her eyes fluttered open then, and there he was, sleeping on his side of the bed with his face facing toward her.

Spencer looked so peaceful. His eyes were closed, lashes brushing along his cheeks, and his mouth slightly parted while his chest rose in a steady rhythm, a sign of him in complete slumber. She had seen the drowsiness in his eyes the moment he walked through the door this evening, the fatigue clumped in his shoulders as he kissed her in greeting. It had been days since the last time he had proper sleep, having to travel across the country for a recent case, and today he finally had the chance to rest his bones from all of the work.

But it also meant it had been eleven days, fifteen hours, and forty-six minutes since the last time she had him buried deep inside her...

Not that she was counting.

Fine—maybe she was. Maybe she was keeping up with their time apart because being with him was something she looked forward to, in and out of the bedroom. How could she not? He was her partner; her smart, caring boyfriend who she loved too damn much and would do anything to bide the time relishing in his presence.

Although tonight she did have a specific activity in mind, which now seemed more like wishful thinking considering he was already deep in slumber. He needed the sleep, she reminded herself. He was simply tired and he needed all the rest he could get.

Swallowing hard, Y/n tried to push her desire back down. She turned over, laid back down on her back, and let her eyelids fall back down as she settled her arms to her side. But the position was too uncomfortable. She let out a groan and shifted again, hips moving along the bed a few times before she finally stopped.

The feel of something shifting woke Spencer up, his mind slowly stirring awake. A soft sigh escaped him as he lay silently, his mind quieted in the stillness of the night. Then his breathing evened out a moment later, exhaustion of the past few days took over before his eyelids lowered, body drifting back to sleep. Except for a little bit later, he heard more rustling along the pillow, a soft, feminine sound of frustration barely ringing in his ears. This time he slowly opened his eyes, adjusting himself in the dark.

The first thing he noticed was a mass of hair laid in front of him, then bare arms and a slender body clad in a silky nightgown. There was silence as he tried to pick up her breathing, watching her back move steadily in the poorly lit room. When another exasperated sigh escaped her, Spencer inched closer and reached out, an arm wrapping around her waist as he pulled her closer toward him.

"Hey," he softly murmured, concerned about her constant movements in her sleep. "You alright?"

Y/n stopped herself from letting out a moan. On normal occasions, being pressed up against him in bed would lull her to sleep, the comfort of his arms provided an immense amount of warmth and safety. Definitely not tonight. The way his arm tightened around her, tugging her back into his solid chest awoken that part of her she tried to suppress. The heat of his body enveloped her and she found herself leaning back, accepting the warmth he was offering.

"Hmm," her returning hum answered, sinking deeper into his embrace.

"Bad dream?"

She stopped herself from snorting. She couldn't even get a wink of sleep and here he was, concerned about the possibility of her having nightmares. But it was a better reason than to admit why she couldn't rest her eyes, so she nodded, her voice slightly breathless as she whispered, "Something like that."

The silence in the air after her reply was jarring. If Spencer was half-awake before, he was fully awake now, the rasp in her voice far too familiar for him to ignore. And when he finally regained his consciousness back, he became highly aware of his surroundings. The soft mattress underneath him, the plush pillow below his head, and the soft curves pressed against him.

He could feel her body trembling underneath his palm, her breathing picking up its pace as his fingers glided along her stomach. He could practically hear the sound of her heartbeat as he pulled her even closer, his head shifting along her shoulder, his nose brushing against the back of her neck. The subtle fragrance of flowers and honey filled his nostrils as he breathed in her scent, nuzzling further into her, the stubble of his jaw grazing along her skin.

"Spence," she muttered, tilting her head into the pillow. "What are you doing?"

"You seem to be having trouble sleeping." She felt the bed shift behind her as he moved again, and then a moment later she felt him pressing his hips into her ass. She let out a gasp. "I'm helping you relax."

She felt something pleasantly warm grazing her neck, his lips moving deliberately slow, as if he was in no hurry and only wanted to savor the taste of her skin. His hand then slid further up her stomach, palm flat as it dragged up her body, leaving a trail of fire in its wake. It eventually stopped its roam, halting its search when he cupped her left breast tenderly.

She couldn't stop the strained moan from slipping out of her mouth. "Sleep isn't exactly on my mind right now."

"I figured," he murmured beside her ear, his hot breath drawing goosebumps along her skin. "How long have you been awake?"

His hand gently kneaded her breast as his mouth traveled along her neck. Her eyelids lowered slightly, a wet heat forming between her thighs as her arousal intensified. "I haven't slept."

"And why is that?" A finger brushed across her nipple through her thin nightgown. She suppressed a helpless whimper as his thumb circled around the nub, caressing it so gently she could feel her body shaking with need. "Go on." He tugged on her nipple between his fingers. "Use your words."

"I..." She felt his tongue softly grazing her skin before he wrapped his mouth around her flesh, sucking on the spot. What was she to say? That she was too aroused to relax? She carefully weighed her words, feeling bashful verbalizing her thoughts, so she finally settled with, "It was too hot."

He hummed in response, somehow acknowledging the meaning behind her words. She watched as his hand left her breast, sliding up her bare arm before it settled on the strap of her flimsy sleepwear. He gently tugged down the thin string as his mouth lowered towards her shoulder, languorously trailing kisses down the line of it. "We should do something about that, shouldn't we?"

She couldn't think clearly when his touch sent her into a whirlwind of chaos. To crave something was one thing, to actually acquire that craving was an entirely different thing. She had wanted to feel him so much, but as his hand trailed back to her now-exposed breast, her mind was in a mess of desperate longing and need. Somehow his mouth trailing on her neck wasn't enough. Somehow his callused fingers stroking her nipple wasn't enough. She needed to feel every inch of his body on her. She wanted all of him.

More, more, more.

"Spence," she breathed out, her hoarse voice hanging in the air.

A ghost of a smile played on his lips. "Tell me." His grip on her nipple tightened, and she shuddered at the sensation. "Tell me what you want."

"You," she answered in a daze. "I want you."

"What do you want me to do?" He gently bit her flesh. "Do you want me to make you feel good? Do you want me to touch you, relax the tension in your body?" Then her heart sped up in her chest, slamming roughly into her rib cage at his next words.

"Do you want me to fuck you to sleep?"

A strangled whimper left her mouth. Spencer was a lot of things in bed. When they had first been together, he was so timid and unsure of himself, too caught up in his thoughts that left him too afraid to touch her—which she honestly hadn't minded, she loved being the one who saw his transformation in the bedroom. But when he finally started to loosen up and be himself with her, exploring things he wanted to try, to finally take control? It drove her absolutely wild to experience him gain his confidence it made her weak in the knees every damn time.

Like this side of him now always managed to render her speechless. Perhaps it was the way he was so poised and calm outside the bedroom, a very different demeanor when he was alone with her, that made it all seem so overwhelming. In the safety of their bedroom, he was everything he desired, and being crude and demanding was what he decided to be this night.

His hand caressing her nipple slid up her chest, his fingers gently wrapping around the base of her neck. Her breath hitched as he softly gripped it, pulling her even further into his chest. "Tell me, is that what you want?"

She was breathing even heavier now, her shoulders heaving with each audible inhale. "Yes."

He bit her earlobe, evoking another breathless shudder out of her. "Explain it in words, I need you to speak to me."

Y/n enjoyed the sweet, gentle way he made love to her. She really did. Very, very much so. But there was a certain enjoyment whenever he was in control. Whenever he let himself go and have his way with her—crass words over sweet nothings, rough stokes over soft touches. It burned her skin and gripped onto her arousal, waking up the submissive side of her which she enjoyed more than she should probably have.

Spencer's grip tightened at her silence. "Are you not going to answer me?"

"Yes," she quickly responded, feeling the subtle bulge of him pressed along her backside. "Please."

"Please... what?"

She couldn't believe he was making her say it. Y/n inhaled a sharp breath and leaned into his touch, practically shifting the weight of her body on top of him. "Spence."

"I need to hear the words or you won't get anything at all," he spoke, his thumb grazing her chin.

The thought of being left sexually frustrated was enough for her to nod, giving in to his command. "Yes," she whispered, and because she wanted to make him feel as desperate as she was, she squirmed, hips writhing along his groin as she searched for friction. "I want you to fuck me to sleep."

A pleased rumble vibrated in his throat. Letting go of her neck, his hand trailed down her body and landed on the top of her thigh, gently massaging the muscle beneath his palm. His fingers skimmed up toward her skin, pushing up her nightgown, exposing more delicate skin and skimpy underwear barely covering her ass. Then it happened so fast. One moment he was caressing her, the next thing she knew his hand drew back before it came barreling forward with a sharp smack that echoed in the room. She gasped in pleasant surprise, her clit throbbing in excitement as his palm rubbed along the stinging flesh.

"You liked that, didn't you?"

She whimpered in response. Then his hand retreated from her ass only to come flying forward again with another sharp crack. Her hips jolted forward at the impact, her eyes closing at the delicious sting as his hand held onto her her stomach. His fingers then slowly trailed south and her breath hitched in her throat as she felt his lips hot on her ear.

"Open your legs, sweetheart."

Her knees fell apart at the demand, one of her legs laying on top of his. She waited for him to touch her, to dip his hand into her aching folds in the confinement of her underwear. Instead, his fingers slipped into the side of her fabric, tugging the material to the side, exposing wet, damp skin to his desire. The slick evidence of her arousal stuck onto the fabric so thickly it was enough for her to feel the heat creeping along her cheeks.

"Would you look at that?" He whispered, lips touching the back of her ear. "I haven't even touched you here and you're already soaking wet."

Her heart was pounding hard in her chest as she watched him. There wasn't a moment of hesitation while his fingers tugged the waistband of her underwear, gingerly sliding them down her legs before pulling them past her feet and casting them somewhere over the side of the bed. Then he grabbed onto her knee, parting her legs further apart but not doing anything to quench her desire. He could feel her trembling, writhing with need as she pressed further into his front.

The cool air hit her exposed skin, and it took a lot of self-control for her not to beg even further, but the way her body squirmed was enough to let him know what she craved. Though his hand stayed where it was, firmly gripping onto her left leg, sliding it on top of his while his lips lazily mapped along her neck.

"Here's what we're going to do," his gruff voice filled her ears. "I'm going to touch you, I'm going to please you in every way you like—" His hand slid painfully slow down her thigh before it came to a complete stop. "—but you can only cum when I give you permission to." His fingers inched closer to her throbbing heat. "Do I make myself clear?"

A shiver spread along her body, understanding what he meant by those words. He wanted to rule her, he wanted to be the one in charge of her own body. And while she should've felt appalled at the thought, her arousal rather grew deeper at every ticking second as he waited for her reply.

And then suddenly his fingers wrapped around her neck again, gently pressing onto her skin as he jutted his hips towards her. "Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes," she begged him, her hand lightly tugging around his arm. "Perfectly clear."

Then his hand trailed down again, slightly brushing her aroused nipples before it settled on the heated span between her legs. When the pads of his fingers lightly grazed her clit, his teeth bit down on her shoulder. A hiss of pleasure instantly flew out of her mouth. Two of his fingers began running back and forth between her damp folds, the sensation was gradually pulling shallower and shallower breaths from her.

"You're so wet," he growled against her skin. "This what you've been needing?"

She faintly nodded, her hips moving gradually with his fingers. His fingers circled in swift motion and it was enough for her to roll her head back onto his shoulder. His fingers then slid back into her slicked entrance before he abruptly slipped two of them into her. Eyes snapping shut, she groaned in pleasure. He began thrusting slowly into her over and over, curling them deep inside. A whimper escaped her mouth at the feel of them as he began to pump into her roughly, her hips pressing eagerly back into his hand.

"I can already feel you clenching around my fingers," he whispered. "You really needed this, didn't you?"

"So much," she found herself answering, a hand grasping onto his arm as he kept thrusting his fingers at a steady pace. "I needed you."

"Then you have me. You'll always have me."

A breathy moan flew out of her at his words, her back arched in response. She felt his lips pulling into a smile along her skin, thrusting his fingers all the way in. She moaned loudly, her head dropping down between his shoulders as he pulled his fingers out before quickly pushing them right back inside.

"Spence," she breathlessly sighed, his fingers still vigorously thrusting into her, only pausing to occasionally curl inside of her which in turn had her toes curling on the bed, her body feeling closer to the edge of her release. "I-I'm gonna—"

"No. You're not."

She let out a loud groan, griping his arm as he thrust deeper, his fingers spreading wider into her as another finger entered her heat. His warm breath was brushing over her skin, the sensation mingled with his finger still thrusting into her deliciously pleasant. "Baby, I-I can't—"

"You can," he whispered, his breathing sounding harsher than before. "You're going to wait until I give you my permission."

A harsh moan ripped in her throat, her body spasming as she tried to force herself to control her body. but it was getting harder to do when her vision felt like it was blurring, her breath coming in sharp pants as his fingers continued to drive into her, the sensation had her legs shaking. She could hear how wet she was, the slick sound of him pumping into her echoed in the room.

"You're really enjoying this," he ground out as his pace picked up. "You're already so close."

She nodded against the pillow, whimpering out an affirmative noise that wasn't quite a word.

"Then I can't let that happen."

Instead of getting what she wanted, he abruptly pulled his fingers out from inside of her before she whined in protest. The loss of his touch on her body was too much to handle as she gripped his arm again, guiding him back between his legs. Spencer couldn't help the amusement dripping in his voice as he watched her move his fingers with her own. "What are you doing?"

"Spence, I was so close—"

"That's not how this works."

Then he retrieved his hand again before shifting behind her, and when she caught him pulling down his sweatpants, she couldn't help but arch her body towards him. She swallowed hard, goosebumps raising along her skin as she watched him pull out his cock, his hand gripping onto the length of it as he settled between her legs.

A moment later she felt the head of his cock rubbing through her damp folds, a shudder running down her spine at the sensation, a soft hum vibrating through her lips. She felt him line himself up with her entrance, her breath feeling like it was catching in her throat as she impatiently waited for him.

And then, finally, after many days of being apart, the tip of him slid inside of her so slowly. A gasp fell out of her mouth. Spencer rumbled out a very gruff, contented noise as he gradually sunk even deeper inside of her, pausing to let herself adjust to him.

"You feel so warm," he groaned out. "So perfectly warm."

She moaned in response, breath coming in hard. "Don't stop, please don't stop."

She could feel her walls fluttering around him, trying to adjust to his girth. Then his hips slowly began rocking into her, pleasure washing over her body in waves at the sensation. His mouth lowered beside her ear, each of his panting breaths falling straight into it. "Nice—" He moved his hips back before pushing them forward leisurely, enjoying the way she clenched around him. "—and slow."

The roll of his hips pulled her into a trance as her body responded; muscles straining, eyes widening, lips parting. Sparks of electricity began to ricochet along every nerve. The coil inside her was building up, her chest was rising and falling faster, more and more, dragging desperate breaths into her lungs with every thrust of his hips.

Then her eyes shifted downwards, watching the way he entered her deliciously body. It was a strange sight, to watch her body react to something so wonderful. Her muscles tensed, goosebumps sprang up along her skin, and it was all there for her viewing pleasure. She watched as he shoved himself into her, over and over again, her walls trembling at how intoxicating he was making her feel.

"Baby, I—" she whimpered, trembling in her wake. "I can't hold much longer."

"You can," he assured her, his fingers digging into her skin.

Weak and desperate, she surrendered in the wake of the urge elicited by his abrasive touch. His hands were all over her, large and expansive, confident in the way he touched, squeezed, and fondled every part of her body. Eager flames bloomed in the pit of her gut. "I—I can't."

He relished the way she clenched around him, her breathing coming out shallow as he took what he wanted. Then he gripped her hips, building up his pace as he thrust deeper into her. "You're so close, I can feel it," he pointed out. "Do you want to cum?"

She tried to focus her mind on something other than the feeling of him inside her. "Yes."

"Hmm," he hummed out, his pace briefly slowing. His lips brushed the shell of her ear as he demanded, "Beg me or I'll stop."

A whimper left her. "Spence."

His lips found her neck when he felt her walls squeezing him even tighter, "Do you want to cum?" he repeated against her skin.

"Mhmm."

"Use your words," he groaned as he increased the pace of his movements. "Say it."

Swallowing hard, her head rolled against his shoulder. Her lips were quivering as he kept up his pace, her body inching closer and closer to her release. She was fighting to hold it back, her body slowly beginning to shake along the mattress.

"Beg." Thrust. "Me." Thrust.

She was so close. Her eyes were half-lidded her voice rang in the air, breathless and desperate for his mercy from the overwhelming pleasure. "Please," she finally breathed out, almost letting out a cry, her lips parted in delight. "Baby—I-I... please let me cum."

"What was that?"

"Spencer," she whimpered desperately. "Please. Please. Let me—fuck.. baby, please."

This time she did let out a cry.

He snarled behind her before his teeth snapped at her earlobe, tugging at the delicate skin. Her body was quaking on the bed as she whined, struggling to hold back any longer. And when she felt like she was about to lose control, he finally released her earlobe and spoke, "Go on, then. Cum for me."

A loud moan flew up out of her throat, her body pressing back into his. She felt the hard clench of her walls around his length as pleasure spread through her entire body. As the coil in her stomach grew, she couldn't help but snake a hand down to where they were connected and quickly found her throbbing sex. Catching her desperate fingers, he swatted her hand away, replacing it with his own as his fingers circled around her clit.

His rough fingers taunting their joint bodies tipped her over that tantalizing edge. She felt each pulse of her walls so acutely, felt the heat flow throughout her spine as the high she reached never came to an end. He buried his face into her neck, kissing and biting the smooth skin. A certain movement from his fingers made her whole body shake. She couldn't handle it, couldn't see through the tears falling, couldn't feel anything but him and the hot pleasure.

She finally came with a scream, wrenched from her throat so roughly it seared its way out of her lungs and into the air. She felt herself clench around him, hard, and his hips shuddered violently against her. Her ears tingled at the rhythm of his grunts as he exhaled her name, his thrusts growing erratic. Then she felt him completely, she could feel his warmth seeping into her heat as he let out the most primal groan she had ever heard.

Silence engulfed them afterward, their heart slowing down from their erratic breathing. It wasn't until he slipped out of her that she let out a tired moan, her voice echoing in the dark. He gently grabbed her body and turned her around, cradling her cheek before leaning in for a kiss.

Then slowly, but steadily, all he tasted was her. It felt like a missing puzzle falling back to its place as his warm lips connected with hers. He was so enraptured by her touch, by the taste of her, that it took a lot for him to pull away. Breathing heavily, he finally rested his head back onto his pillow, a coy smile stretched on his lips as his thumb stroked along her cheek.

"Hi."

A sincere smile flourished on her face. "Hi."

"Well, that was... something."

She laughed as she leaned closer, wrapping her arm around his waist. "It was fun."

"It really was," he agreed, suddenly feeling shy as he realized what had just occurred. "I always surprise myself when I'm with you."

"Good," she simply said. He wrapped his arms around her as she settled in his embrace. They lay in comfortable silence, her head on his chest, legs draped over him as his fingers drew lazy patterns on her thigh. Then after a moment of relishing each other's presence, his deep voice cut through the silence.

"You know," he started, his voice very soft. "You could've just woken me up if you have trouble sleeping."

She slightly leaned back to look up at him. "You looked so peaceful, I didn't want to disturb you."

"Nothing about you will ever be disturbing to me."

She wrinkled her nose. "Even if you got home from a long, exhausting trip, you wouldn't mind if I woke you up for sex?"

"I'd especially want to be woken up for that reason," he replied in disbelief. His fingers trailed under her chin, angling her gaze on him. "Wouldn't you?"

She smiled at the thought. There was a delightful feeling as her mind wandered on the possibility of him interrupting her sleep because he craved her touch. "Alright," she agreed. "Duly noted."

His arms tightened around her. "Do you think you can sleep now?"

She hummed out a positive response, her face burrowing along his skin, just beneath his chin. Her body suddenly felt the heavy post-sexual bliss, and now surrounded by his warmth, she could feel the fatigue creeping into her body.

"I was hoping so," he murmured.

Tugging the sheets up higher over their body, she felt him shifting along the bed for a minute, his arms encircling her waist. His chin was carefully tucked onto the top of her head as he drew her in tight under the covers. And when the steady rhythm of his breathing embraced her, her body finally relaxed, falling into sleep.

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dilatorywriting · 9 months

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Monster Mayhem: Siren's Song [Part 2]

Gender Neutral Reader x Vil Schoenheit Word Count: 4.6k

Summary: Fish are friends (?). You are not food.

[PART 1] [PART 2]

The Siren wasn’t leaving.

Which a part of you had been expecting. Because surely if there had been a snowball’s chance in Hell of him making it out into the open ocean alive before you’d cut through the ropes, he would have taken it and left you stranded without a second thought. And his odds weren’t that much better now—his fins were still a mangled mess and the wounds all along his scales and dainty featherings were still raw and oozing. It only made sense that he’d take at least a few days to try and recover.

But… But still.

Did he have to make it so obvious that he was sticking around?

The glint of the light off his tail was a constant distraction—always bright and eye-catching even at the cloudiest points of the day. Always flashing just out of the corner of your eye as a perpetual reminder that there was something in the water that would very happily gobble you up if you bothered making a swim for safety.

He’d also taken to sunning himself. Like some kind of overgrown mer-cat. Stretched out languidly on a flat rock with the tips of his violet fins hanging over the edge—just enough for the gauzy edges to play along the surf and avoid drying out entirely. His pale hair splayed out in a halo around him as he snoozed softly in the heat of the afternoon.

Which! No fair! This wasn’t a vacation! This was a stranding! An SOS! A Rose Queen Procedural Rule Four-Hundred-and-Four! And him taking up the whole of the cove to, I don’t know, tan, felt like another intentional slap in the face. The sun rose over the bay, which meant this stretch of shore was facing East. Which was the direction your vessel had been coming from. Which meant that this was the place on the little islet where you needed to be. Subsection Three of Procedural Four-O’-Four. ‘In the case of Crew Overboard, we will always travel the same route as planned. In order to give the Strandee a chance to map out a reconnection point.’ Riddle always had been so smart about these kinds of things.

‘It’s just until he’s better,’ you reassured yourself for the umpteenth time that morning. ‘Then he’ll leave and I can get rescued or die here alone and in peace.’

A fin flicked up from the shallows to spray you with saltwater splatters and you spluttered indignantly when it ran down into your eyes. You glared at the Siren’s retreating back, musing bitterly about how you’d never thought it was possible for someone to make the tuck of their shoulders look smug.

‘Alone and in peace,’ you repeated hopefully. And it sounded like such far off dream.

On the second day post-rope-removal, the Siren waved you down with a sharp flick of his wrist.

You approached the waterline hesitantly, still mostly waiting for him to turn on you and make toothpicks out of your bones. But instead of murdering you and getting crafty with your corpse, he just pointed to some scribbles in the sand. You squinted at the loop-de-loops suspiciously. It almost looked like an illustration of dancing bubbles—the lot of them curling and popping along the ground in a line like a limerick.

“Uhm, very nice,” you tried, and the fins flattened pissilly all along the side of his head.

He jabbed his claw towards the mess again. Then firmly at your eyes (hopefully not as a threat that he’d be happy to take them right out of your head if you continued to be obtuse). And then back again. He made a point to move the tip of his sharp nail from one swirl to the next in a little hop-hop-hop. It reminded you a bit deliriously of Riddle trying to teach some of the more socially bereft members of the crew their letters, and—

“You want me to read that?” you gaped, staring at the elegant curls of nonsense in the sand.

The Siren crossed his arms across his lean chest with a scoff that puffed past his lips hard enough to fluff out some of the paler, purple-tipped, hair hanging by his chin. He rolled his eyes at you and muttered something thin and spicy under his breath that you just knew had to be some sort of insult.

“I can read!” you defended, because it felt like it needed defending.

He leveled you with an entirely unimpressed ‘Oh, I’m sure you can’ sneer and you dropped to your knees, incensed. You dug your fingers into the sand and started sculpting out your own very cheery message into the muck.

When you were done, you waved a hand towards your proclamation and watched his brows pull together at the center into a teeny, pinched sort of expression. He let himself roll forward with the seafoam to lay more fully on the shore, and stared down at the mess you’d made like it was some strange code. Even reaching out to poke softly at the straight edge of a ‘T’ with one of his knife-sharp talons.

After a long moment of contemplation, he looked back up at you with an arched brow that was so unintentionally poised and not full of spite that it almost took your breath away. Who knew how pretty an already stunning face could become when it wasn’t twisted up in absolute vitriol? You shook away that absolutely damning thought in horror. That’s exactly what he’d want you to think. Siren, and all. Using his hotness to lure people onto his dinner table. Not you, baby. Because you were smart. And so gross from being stranded under island sunshine for a week that surely you’d taste like some absolutely rancid jerky at this point.

“Oh no,” you droned, and immediately that subtle curiosity of his ticked right back into irritation. “Two creatures from entirely different species and ecosystems have somehow managed to develop unique alphabets. What a completely unpredictable complication.”

The Siren puffed up like an angry lionfish and turned with a snarl to dive back into the shallows—making sure to whip his tail in your face and slam into the water with a huge splash as he went. The salt spray pelted down like rain and you snickered as it sloughed off your cheeks in rivulets, content to sit merrily in the wet sand beside your hastily scribbled: ‘Mermen Are Vicious Bitches. Hit Me if You Agree :)’

The next morning, there were more fish on the shoreline. Though these ones looked a bit less like they’d been dragged up by their souls and left to writhe in the wake of Siren-Screaming-Agony and more just like the unfortunate victims of a pair of too sharp claws.

You frowned down at a brown, sad-looking flounder that had clearly found itself at the very wrong end of a certain merman still swanning about in the bay not fifty feet away. It was mostly intact, and pleasantly plump for a flat, pancake-looking blob of muck. Your stomach gurgled and the thought of a nice, coal-charred, fillet really seemed quite nice. You chanced another peek at your resident Asshole, debating if it was worth swiping his snack. Another ominous rumble from your abdomen and you reached down to steal your prize and scuttle off deeper inland like a troll returning to its layer.

It didn’t take very long to get a small fire going, and within the hour you’d been fed and were more than ready for a cozy, full-bellied nap in the soft sand.

By the time you began to make your way back to the cove, the sun was high in the sky and you were already dreading sitting beneath its weighted rays for another afternoon. So you slowed your pace to a near snail crawl, dragging your feet as you went.

The little octopus from earlier was still swaying contentedly around the tide pool you’d shoved it into. It probably needed to be carried back out to the bay at some point so that it could swim back into the depths of the ocean, but the poor thing was just so small and round. Surely it’d get devoured by the first sharp-toothed thing that caught sight of it. Especially with your merman apparently being out for the blood of whatever other scaly things were swimming about in his temporary home. So for now you slipped it some small bits of leftover fish instead. You sat, crouched at the pool’s edge, and watched raptly as it grabbed the shredded bits of pale meat with its chubby tentacles to shove towards an eager beak.

“You’re the only friend I have left in the whole world,” you told the octopus miserably, wiping the greasy remnants of your lunch off your chin with a sigh.

The traitor hurriedly moved to snatch up the treat you’d offered it and hide itself away between some rocky crevices. You sighed louder. Rejected. What a time to be alive.

The next morning, the Siren was singing again.

That familiar prickle danced its way up your arms, leaving pinpricks of goosebumps in its wake. Some pirates told tales of storms leaving their mark in such a way—that seasoned sailors could feel the tickle of thunder against their skin long before they could spot dark clouds on the horizon. You’d have to amend that little legend whenever you found your way back to The Rose Queen. Siren Sense was a lot cooler, anyways. Any idiot with arthritis could tell you when rain was due.

But either way, Mister Merman was back to idly circling the bay and calling into the distance. At least it wasn’t as miserable as it had been the other day—more of a leisurely pacing than the frantic, near-feral caterwauling that had soured your gut so terribly.

There was another fat fish on the shore. A bright, red snapper so brilliantly crimson that it was almost impossible to make out the garish wounds in its side. Almost. And even if it hadn’t been, the drooping, rust colored, rivulets dug into the sand would have been enough of a clue.

Why the Siren was bothering to leave his clawed-up kills at your feet like some overgrown cat dragging in mice, you had no idea. Maybe he was poisoning them, and subsequently you. Maybe he was bored and it was some sort of fishy enrichment. Maybe he just didn’t want to bother leaving dead things around to contaminate his favorite sunning spots, and tossing his leftovers in your vicinity was as close to a reliable dumpster as he could find on a remote island. Who’s to say.

Either way, you dutifully ignored the magical tingles racing up your shoulders and brought the newest fish back to your makeshift firepit. You grilled the snapper in silence, debating. Then you fed your octopus friend and returned to the beach, cooked fillets in tow.

You waited in awkward silence for a few moments, fish burning your palms, before raising your fingers to your lips and whistling loud enough to make your teeth ache. The mystical static faded from the air and you watched in pleasant (?) surprise as the Siren made his way back to where you’d set up camp. He rolled in with the tide, cresting on a gentle bit of surf and coming to rest neatly in the shallows—fins splayed out beneath him like a lord lying amidst his many silken robes. He propped himself up on his elbows and looked at you with an arched brow and slanted frown.

You awkwardly extended a hand—roasted snapper still resting in your open palm and burning the absolute fuck out of your fingers.

“Uhm,” you said, feeling a bit too much like the local idiot trying to feed one of the rabid, wandering, strays around town. “Food?”

He scoffed and rolled his eyes at you.

“Do you want food?” you tried.

The other brow joined the first, nearly rising all the way into his hairline. It wasn’t a pleasant sort of surprise.

“It’s better cooked?” you coaxed in the face of his outright constipated scowl. Be fed and full, you thought hopefully. Maybe then you won’t fucking look at me like I’m a boxed lunch.

He jabbed a sharpened, black talon in your direction, and then pointedly again angled up towards your mouth. Then back to the fish still roasting your poor cuticles straight off your fingers.

You blinked, a bit thrown.

“What? It’s supposed to be for me?”

He nodded, throwing in another one of those bombastically snarky eyerolls for good measure. ‘Obviously,’ that sneer said.

“Well,” you huffed, plopping down to sit cross-legged in the sand and offering up one of the fillets. “There’s plenty for both of us.” When he stared at you like you were attempting to serve him up a choice pile of literal dog shit, you wiggled your hand and entreated, “Please just take it before my skin melts off.”

The Siren huffed and reached out, plucking up the fish with the tips of his claws. He observed your meager meal as one might a particularly unappealing cockroach, and after a long moment, his nose scrunched (cute, you thought absently before immediately suffocating every wayward braincell that would dare call your murderous shore-neighbor anything of the sort) and he leaned forward to nip at a crisped, pink corner with the barest edge of one canine.

When your culinary creation didn’t immediately strike him dead on the spot, he took another, equally dainty bite. And then another. The tight pucker of his mouth eased as he chewed, and you watched as the harsh cut of his purple irises warmed with that same intrigue as they had when you’d first scribbled your foreign letters into the sand.

He readjusted his grip on the fish between his claws to get a better angle and took a proper bite, chewing thoughtfully. Before you knew it, you were watching him nip at the pads of his fingers, his gaze going a bit round and shocked when he realized that he’d devoured the entirety of it.

“See?” you hummed, tucking into your own portion with gusto. “Not all things humans come up with are terrible.” He harumphed and turned to glare back out over the bay, slouching into the surf with an expression that was most certainly not a pout. “But maybe you’d know that if you bothered to do anything other than murder and devour us on sight,” you chirped.

To which you were immediately doused with an armful of water for your troubles. The Siren glowered petulantly from where he’d just wave-bombed you, and then dove back into the deeper waters of the sandbar. He immediately started up his stupid singing all over again—pointedly keeping his chin high above the surface and splashing brine into your face anytime he looped close enough to shore.

“I don’t know why I bother,” you huffed, and ate your sopping snapper in grumpy silence.

There was a ship wrecked off the coast.

Nothing overly cool, and definitely only a small chunk of what had probably at one point been a rather impressive vessel. But it was something. The first change in pace you’d had in days and oozing with possibilities.

The only problem was that the great, rotting, hull of the thing was dug up into a jagged skerry about a hundred yards off the shore—wedged into the pointed rocks with no chance of any wave or breeze sending it adrift. You could swim perfectly well. I mean, living your life on a ship surrounded by tumultuous, depthless, ocean would have been a hugely stupid career move otherwise. The issue, naturally, was the thing currently making its home in these waters. Sharks and barracudas, blablabla. They were just animals, no matter how many teeth they had. The Siren had a grudge. And just as many teeth.

Right now, said spiky pain in your ass was lounging in the shallows like the froth was an elegant daybed made just for him—shredded fins swaying in the soft tides and his hair floating about him that same, white-gold halo that made him look far too peaceful for anyone’s good sense. He wasn’t singing today, which was great for the local wildlife population but terrible for your Siren Sense. Once you waded into the waves, you’d have no real way to keep track of him. Hope, maybe, that he didn’t think fucking with you was worth messing up whatever tan-line he had going on. But nothing concrete that you’d be willing to bet the safety of your limbs on.

You wiggled your toes in the sand and stared longingly out at the stupid, wrecked ship that was so stupidly close. If you swam your fastest you could probably make it there in under two minutes—less than that, even. But that was still more than enough time for the Siren to rake those dark claws of his across your throat and drag you down into the depths to drown.

Riddle’s angry, red face swam through your thoughts, and you could practically see him shoving that beloved law tome of his under your nose for the umpteenth time.

‘Rule 32, never make dangerous bets that you’re certain you won’t win, particularly if you are betting against a Blue Nosed Beetle.’

‘Rule 15, do not needlessly sacrifice your life in the name of curiosity, excluding—of course—if you hail from Cheshire or are a Cat.’

‘It’s only a dumb shipwreck,’ you thought miserably, if rationally. ‘It’s probably not even that cool.’

Your captain would be so proud.

The next morning you were rolling up the cuffs on your pants and wading into the cool shallows, silently lighting a candle in your heart for your beloved, steam-faced leader and promising that you would at the very least cover the costs of your own funeral so as not to inconvenience him further.

The waves lapped against your ankles and the waters themselves were shockingly clear and blue. You could practically see each grain of sand beneath your heels—make out each pointy rock and the little, red crabs that scuttled away from your tromping like civilians fleeing from the shadow of a leviathan. The Siren was back to singing today. Perhaps his poor, overworked throat simply needed a break every now and again. But either way, your Merman Magic Missive was working in full force. The hairs on your arms stood at full attention and you liked to imagine you could see them twitching in circles to follow his long, looping arcs through the bay.

You made it up to your knees and waited, eyes scanning the open water and nose twitching like maybe you could smell the fucker. There was nothing but a familiar prickle along your shoulders and that deep sense of ‘tug tug tug’ with no answer, so you took a deep breath and pushed further, the water sloshing up to your hips, your chest, and finally you were floating—paddling slow and cautious towards the wreckage.

It really was insanely close. Even moving at your most cautious, sneakiest crawl, you’d made it nearly three-quarters of the way there within perhaps five minutes. And no signs of a vengeful, hungry Siren circling the waters beneath you either. More rules that perhaps that you’d have to tell Riddle might need some amending once you finally made it back home to your crew. ‘Dangerous bets,’ who? ‘Needless sacrifice,’ what? You might as well have outsmarted the whole ocean.

As you moved closer, you could make out a strange coat of arms on the side of the hull that you didn’t recognize. Twining, silver songbirds soaring against the sparkly backdrop of an otherwise plain faced crest, which honestly looked far too delicate to be heading the broken remains of what was no doubt at one point an absolute monster of a vessel. You reached out to brush your fingers against the shining plaque and then you were underwater.

You fought the immediate impulse to gasp in surprise, because expediting the process of your inevitable drowning just seemed stupid even by your standards. There was a clawed hand wrapped around your calf yanking you down, and you squinted through a stream of panicked bubbles to see your terrible, horrible, completely thankless co-strandee snarling up at you with sharp teeth and a sharper flail of his delicate gills. Thankfully the water wasn’t all that deep, so by the time you’d been dragged to the bottom you were maybe only ten feet under. But still. It was the goddamn principle! And besides, you’d heard about enough drunks drowning in puddles to know that this was more than enough Liquid Death to put you in an early grave.

The Siren looped around you in tight circles, and you could feel the brush of his tattered fins against your skin like the ghostly fingers of a reaper trailing down your spine. You’d known he was big—giant, even. Long, and impressive, and built to rule the very depths he’d dragged you into. Large enough to wrestle with sharks and capsize lifeboats. Big enough, no doubt, to eat you whole and still be hungry enough for seconds.

The salt stung your eyes and you blinked hard to keep his vibrant, amethyst tail in focus. Would he strike from the back, where you couldn’t see? Or would he go right for your throat—a direct, full frontal, ‘fuck you, human’ if there ever was one. And honestly, what were you expecting? That a good deed and a few pieces of cooked fish would sway him from devouring you whole? Maybe the island sun had fried whatever remained of your rattled brain.

He stopped in front of you and hissed—a stream of tight, tiny, bubbles jetting past his canines. You glared in petulant confusion, absolutely refusing to give your would-be murderer whatever reaction he was hoping for. His brow pinched into a tight, angry, v and he snarled again. You snarled back, and with that, the last breath in your lungs swooped out of you in a tight squeak. You choked, and struggled, and kicked at the claws holding you down. The Siren reared back, eyes widening in something that looked insultingly like genuine surprise, and you used his moment of hesitation to propel yourself off the sandbar and back to the choppy surface.

You gasped in a hasty breath, expecting to immediately be dragged back under. But when you weren’t pulled back down to your watery grave, you took in another and another. Gasping, and hacking, and spitting up seafoam. The Siren’s head crested the surface beside you and you flailed away, nearly pushing yourself under all over again. You paddled frantically, trying to keep your nose above the tide, and then suddenly there was something under you. You squawked and kicked it on instinct. The Siren snapped his pointy teeth in your face and you realized with a start that oh. That was him, wasn’t it? The long, winding, scaled muscles of his tail curled beneath your toes in what almost seemed like an attempt to keep you upright.

He stared at you with those unnervingly bright eyes of his—blonde hair curling softly at the edges where it plastered elegantly along his finned ears, and those too-long lashes dripping with small, sparkly, drops of salt water.

“What the hell is this bullshit?” you choked, coughing up more bubbly froth. “You don’t get to look so—so put together after trying to murder me!”

The Siren huffed out something that the delusional, still half-drowned, part of you wanted to classify as a laugh. And then he organized that bemused expression back into its usual, haughty, iciness and began to carefully make his way back towards the shore—towing you along like a poor, little, lost buoy with nowhere else to go.

You let him drag you up into the sand and only flopped around a little. He flicked his tail at you and your dramatics and you turned on him with a fierce, waterlogged scowl—a bit more confident now that he didn’t have the home field advantage.

“What was that for! I just wanted to look at the ship! I wasn’t even doing anything to you!” you wailed. “I haven’t done anything to you at all! Ever! Why do you keep—" you collapsed back into the sand with a miserable whine that rattled all the teeth in your head, and ground the heels of your palms into your eyes until you saw stars.

After a long moment of nothing, you felt a gentle tap at your shoulder.

You looked back up with a start to see Mister Merman looking nearly sheepish.Or as much of an equivalent that his aloof mask of a face was capable of pulling off. The clawed finger resting at your collarbone dropped to the sand by your hip, and he carefully began to draw more of those squiggles. No, scratch that. Not the dancing, popping, ones from the other day. These actually looked sort of like the silver songbirds from that shipwreck. More jagged, certainly. But similar enough that you felt something a bit too coldly cautious to be confusion seep through your guts.

Once he was finished, he looked up and met your gaze—sharp, pointed. And then he reached back out and smeared the birds into nothing and shook his head, firm. His red lips moved slowly, exaggerated, again and again. And you could make out the vague shape of words you’d had shouted at you a hundred times over.

‘Not safe.’

That same, shivery, nervous feeling bit at your limbs.

“…okay,” you said after a moment. And then leaned forward to dig your own fingers into the sand, dutifully ignoring how your elbows knocked against his own.

‘Not safe,’ you wrote, and watched his eyes trace each letter like a treasure map.

There was another tap at your shoulder. And then he pointed to the words in the muck, then to himself.

You rolled your eyes. “Yes, yes. You’re not safe either.”

He sighed dramatically enough to ruffle the ends of your still soaked hair. And then pointed to the words again, tapping at the ‘N’ with the curved tip of a claw.

“Nnnn?” you mouthed, confused.

He moved to the ‘o’ next and it clicked.

“You want me to teach you how to read my letters?” you asked, flabbergasted. Another sigh, like you’d dropped the weight of all the world on his pale shoulders. Or perhaps that your idiocy was enough to put that hearty mass to shame. You decided that you were still feeling a bit too much like you’d only just barely escaped a brush with death, dismemberment, and dinner plans to push your luck with sassing him back too harshly, and just blinked owlishly in dazed surprise. “But why?”

His purple eyes trailed in the direction of the shipwreck and something cutting and poisonous clouded his expression. He pointed to the words again.

‘Not safe.’

“Alright,” you said, looking out over the water with a strange sort of sinking feeling in your gut. You leaned forward and began to draw the alphabet at your feet. His tail twitched by your fingers and you ignored the soft brush of his still-healing fins. “This one’s an ‘A’, like in ‘Asshole’—"

Whomp went the tail as he cracked it across your knuckles like a school matron with a ruler. And you couldn’t help the startled burst of genuine, tinkling laughter that bubbled past your lips for the first time since you’d been dragged overboard.

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#twisted wonderland imagines #twisted wonderland #twst x reader #Vil Schoenheit x Reader #Vil x Reader #vil schoenheit #Mermay #Monster Mayhem #My Writing #vil shoenheit #Siren!Vil #Mermaid!Vil #Fantasy AU #Monster Mayhem Vil Part 2

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stinkyme · 8 months

Text

Hello! One anon on here as well as the user on AO3 asked for a Fyodor version, so I wrote it. I hope yall like it and enjoy it! :)

CW/TW: NSFW, fem!reader, jealousy (sort of), established relationship, orgasm denial, edging, clit slapping, Fyodor uses "dear" for reader at the times, slight degrading, name calling (brat, whore, dumb little thing), slight dumbification when Fyodor makes reader spell out his name while using toys on them, toys usage (dildo, clit sucker), slight dacryphilia, needy!reader, clueless!reader, reader has good intentions that come off wrong, vaginal fingering, vaginal penetration (p in v), apologizing and reassurance (reader), creampies, if I forgot anything please let me know! :)

* I made the reader to be a bit clueless, not genuinely wanting to make Fyodor jealous because I feel like if he knew the intention - he wouldn't play into it, given his issues with trusting people in general. So I think even in this writing, he is so more offended due to the "disrespect" and unaware that reader is actually trying to praise him...just in a wrong way, lol

** Also, I kinda dig the idea of bimbo/himbo/clueless reader and Fyodor ngl…. :3

I apologize for any mistakes in advance! :)

Jealousy sex || Fyodor Dostoevsky x Reader

"So, he actually got you this time?" you ask in a slightly confused tone as you sit on the empty table that was connected to the one with Fyodor's computer on it. You swing your legs a little bit as you watch him type in some things, not looking at you.

"I am afraid so. But not to worry, it will work out perfectly for me." he replies in his regular, silk-like voice, looking at you for a moment.

"Mm…" you let out as you think.

"What's his name again?" you ask, tilting your head a bit.

"Dazai Osamu." he says in a normal tone as he continues working.

"Never heard of him." you let out a disinterested tone, looking to the side for a moment.

"But he seems quite smart." you continue, reverting your gaze towards Fyodor again.

"That he is." he nods as he continues typing on a keyboard.

"He may even be able to beat you, perhaps he is smarter than you are!" you say with a bit too much enthusiasm for Fyodor's liking. He shoots you a quick, sharper gaze.

"Oh?" he lets out in a deeper, lower tone.

"Yeah! Man, now I wish I met the guy who can toy with you like this." you slap your thighs a bit, smiling at Fyodor. His face twitches in mixture of annoyance and disgust.

"Toy...with me?" he asks in a low tone.

"Duh! I mean he won, didn't he? And now look at you, gotta work so hard to keep up!" you say in an upbeat tone, leaning your body a bit backwards as you use your hands to support yourself from behind.

"He won this once and it was part of the plan-" he begins explaining to you in a calmer, more collected tone.

"Dude is a genius! Let me see his photo." you cut him off, jumping off of the table. Fyodor's eyebrows narrow in irritation, but he sighs out as he gets the file of Dazai's past. You take the paper, eyes quickly running over the unimportant information as your gaze falls back on Dazai's picture.

"Hm...his hair is a bit weird, but I like the waviness. He seems handsome! Is he also like this in real life?" you ask, excitement evident in your voice.

"I don't think that is necessary information." Fyodor says in a colder tone, furrowing his eyebrows.

"It's not, you are right. But genius who can possibly beat you and good looking! I gotta go and tell this to Nikolai and Sigma!" you say in an elevated tone as you drop the file of Fyodor's table, giving a quick kiss on his cheek.

"That's for good luck! Here is another one. You have to keep on working hard to keep up with him!" you say happily as you kiss his other cheek, quickly leaving the room afterwards. Fyodor's gaze is still irritated, but he sighs out as he has things to do. He will deal with you later.

~ That night

Fyodor slides your panties down your legs, softly caressing sides of your legs while doing so. He brushes his cold knuckles over your clit and wet inner lips, making you shiver. He begins rubbing little, slow circles on your clit with his fingertips and you let out a breathy moan as he does. He inserts two of his other fingers inside your dripping cunt, gently sliding them in and out of you. The coldness of his slender fingers sends shivers up your spine, a knot of tingles forming in your lower tummy.

You let out a few softer moans as you spread your legs more for him. Fyodor curls his fingers a bit, rubbing your sensitive spot inside as the fingertips on your clit keep the slow, almost teasing pace. You sigh out in bliss, clenching your pussy around his fingers a bit as the sweet pleasure relaxes you. You roll your hips a bit as you feel precum gliding down your sensitive walls and Fyodor lets out a chuckle upon the sensation on his own fingers. Precum just keeps on leaking down your pretty cunt as Fyodor keeps up a soft, gentle pace with both - circles on your clit and little thrusts of his fingers.

"Quite needy tonight, aren't you?" he asks in a silvery, breathy tone.

"Maybe a little bit." you respond softly with a little smile, feeling the warmth spread in waves inside your lower tummy.

"Shall I give you more then?" he leans in, slowly kissing below your chest. He trails the kisses around the area of your ribcage, covering both sides of your body in a sloppy, unhurried pace. He moves his attention to your tummy, kissing as low as he can reach in one straight line. He sneaks in a few small licks in-between the kisses as he keeps on pleasuring you with his fingers. Your cunt squeezes around him as you keep on letting soft breaths out, his cold lips making nice balance to your warm body.

"Please do." you finally reply as you nod and he speeds up the pace of his fingers inside you just for a few seconds, pressuring your g-spot and squeezing a louder moan out of your throat. He moves his fingertips away from your clit and extracts his fingers out of your pussy. Then, he quickly positions himself between your legs, gently hugging your hips and ass with his hands. He begins slowly kissing your lower tummy, moving to your inner thighs as he places a few more soft kisses on each. He gives your clit a swift, unexpected kitten lick with the tip of his cold tongue, barely touching it.

You let out a soft moan as your hips quiver for a moment. He slowly moves up, leaning away from your needy cunt. He pulls his boxers down and he strokes his cock couple of times. He lets out a thicker string of spit fall directly on his palm and he continues stroking it, a shaky whimper escaping his lips.

"I must admit, I am feeling quite needy myself, do you mind?" he asks you in a whiny, but still silky, somewhat steady tone as he aligns his cock with your entrance. He trembles upon feeling the warm precum touch the tip of his cock. You shake your head, smiling at him.

Of course you don't mind. This man has such a low libido lately that you dream of moments like these. However, you can't help but wonder what got him worked up?

Your thoughts are cut short as he makes a long, heavy thrust inside of you, his hands falling next to each side of your head. You let out a quick gasp as the tips of Fyodor's eyebrows furrow upwards, a soft, prolonged whine escaping his throat. He begins slowly thrusting in and out of you. Each stroke is long. The tip of his cock only stays inside your needy cunt before he slowly slides it back in, making sure you feel every inch until he reaches the deepest spot. Your hands find their way to Fyodor's waist, gently sliding down to his hips and back to his waist as he keeps slowly rolling his hips into yours. Fyodor lets out shaky breaths in and out, his body trembling already. Your little whimpers mix up with his sounds as you roll your hips a bit, too wet and needy to cum. You slide one of your hands away from his waist, bringing it between your legs to play with your clit.

He leans his face closer to yours, placing shaky, sloppy kisses over your jaw. His thrusts are still slow, but perfectly stimulating your g-spot. Alongside your own fingers circling on your clit, your orgasm builds up rather quickly. You feel him leaking precum inside your cunt, sending shivery tingles throughout your whole body. Your free hand moves away from his waistline, up to his chest, your fingertips pressing into it.

He keeps on kissing your jaw for a little longer before he gives attention to the side of your neck, biting into it before he starts placing soft kisses.

You let out soft whimpers more frequently as Fyodor's shaky, warm breath spreads over your skin he was just kissing. You feel your lower tummy tense up as your orgasm slowly makes its first waves. Your thighs quiver around Fyodor's slow hips and he lets out a moan into your neck as he feels your cunt clenching around him. He suddenly speeds up his movement, breaking an upcoming orgasm as he roughly thrusts in and out of you. You let out a mixture of a pleased and annoyed moan as it feels good, but your orgasm got delayed.

He moves his hand between your bodies, gently taking your wrist and pulling your hand away from your clit. He brings your hand next to your face, still holding it by its wrist.

"I let you play long enough. You know I dislike greedy brats." he whispers in your ear as he begins slamming his hips into yours even faster, his cock relentlessly stimulating your sensitive cunt. You keep letting gasps in and out from the suddenness, your breath cutting short each time his pelvic area slaps your pussy. He whimpers in your ear, silky sounds melting on your skin and sending tingles to your tummy.

You squeeze your legs around his hips, constant pleasure without an orgasm getting unbearable. Fyodor lets out more frequent whimpers and whines, his cock twitching inside of you as he keeps up his heavy pace. His grip on your wrist tightens as his pace becomes a bit messy, breathy moans sending shivers down your spine. You let out soft moans, your eyebrows twitching and eyes rolling back into your head.

You want to cum so badly, clenching around his cock desperately. Your desperation just sends him over the edge, a few loads of cum filling you up suddenly. He shakily pulls out, breathing heavily as some of the cum slides down your inner lips. A tingling sensation makes you quiver as you tighten around nothing, producing a bit louder, wet sounds.

Fyodor leans away from you, calming down from his release. He slowly gets up and starts getting dressed. You sit up, evidently deprived and annoyed.

"What do you think you are doing?" you ask in an accusatory tone. Fyodor just gives you a sharp look, but his lips curl into a sly smile.

"Do you think that's a smart way to talk to me?" he asks in a tone as sly as his smile. He puts on his pants as he walks up to you, placing his hand on your cheek.

"You have been quite disrespectful lately. Do you think you deserve to cum?" he whispers as he keeps on stroking your cheek.

"When have I been disrespectful?" you ask, slightly confused as you feel your core burning with a need for release.

"Many times. Many more than I approve of, that is." he says in a faintly sharper tone.

"Now, don't be a greedy brat and go to sleep. I have things to keep working on." he says as he gently pats the top of your head, sliding his fingers through your hair after.

"Oh right! You have that genius dude to catch up to!" you suddenly remember, exclaiming your words enthusiastically.

"Work hard and you will get there!" you nod slightly, happily smiling. Fyodor's face twitches in annoyance.

Just how oblivious can you be?

He swiftly grabs a handful of your hair from where his hand was resting on top of your head, making you gasp in. His free hand spreads your legs. He inserts two of his fingers inside your dripping cunt, pumping them in and out in a relentlessly agonizing pace. You let out quick, sharp moans as your lower tummy begins to hurt from stimulation, but lack of release of any sort. Little tears roll down your cheeks as it becomes unbearable.

"Does it hurt?" he asks with no sympathy whatsoever, on the contrary, his voice hints at slight sadism and pleasure. You barely nod and he lets a soft breath out, almost a chuckle.

"It should." he says in a colder tone, his gaze sharp and sly. He quickly extracts his fingers and taps your lips. You open up and begin sucking on them, cleaning up the mess he made inside you before.

"Enough. Now go to sleep or do whatever, as long as you are not touching yourself or messing up my work. Understood?" he whispers as he abruptly takes his fingers out of your mouth. He lets go of your hair and you almost fall down on the bed.

"Understood." you say quietly as you play with your fingers.

"Don't be disappointed now, I will reward you once I teach you how to behave properly again." he sighs out with a little grin as he puts his usual top on. With that being the last thing he says to you, he leaves the room. You keep on pouting for a little longer before you drop on the bed, sighing out. Trying to think of what you've done wrong, eventually you fall asleep, still painfully needy for a release.

~ Next day

You wake up with an urge to cum, already messing up with your day. As you go to the bathroom to wash up, you keep thinking about what you possibly could have done wrong. As you leave the bathroom, Fyodor walks in the room quietly, slowly closing the door behind himself.

"Oh, you are awake." he notices, his gaze falling down on your still nude body.

"So are you. Didn't you sleep at all?" you ask as he sits down on the bed and you climb on his lap, wrapping your arms around his neck. His fingertips brush over your hips as he closes his eyes.

"No, I didn't." he replies softly and you begin kissing his neck, shamelessly needy and careless for his current state.

"How emotionless and apathetic of you." he chuckles as he knows your neediness is currently taking control.

"You are one to tell me that." you narrow your eyebrows at him as you move away from his neck.

"Ah, are you still mad about last night?" he says in a silvery tone, gently sliding his palms down your thighs. You nod as you begin grinding your hips on him.

"I am tired dear, I will play with you later." he says as he gently rolls you over, letting you sit next to him. He stands up and takes his coat off. You feel slightly annoyed again, but try to not think about the burning sensation in your lower tummy.

"So, did you make any progress?" you ask in a casual tone as you lay down on your side, resting your head on your arm.

"Yes, it's going smoothly so far." Fyodor nods, replying softly.

"Mm, that's good." you nod, smiling at him.

"But imagine, you winning against him would prove you are really smart." you say in a daydreaming tone which rubs Fyodor the wrong way.

Really smart? As in...he isn't the smart one? In that daydreamy, hopeful tone? Fyodor never lets people test his patience as much as he had let you the past few days. This had to be some sick joke played out by you or the higher forces. Do you want a reaction out of him so badly? Forget it.

"You know what? Since I am so tired, I may reach out to a few little helpers." he says in a lickerish, but more so irritated tone.

"Hm? You mean Nikolai and Sigma?" you lift your head, tilting it to the side a bit.

"...No." he says after a prolonged pause. Good God. Did you already forget?

He reaches to the box where you kept a handful of toys. He takes out your favorite dildo, clit sucker and lube and walks up to you, dropping them in front of your face. You feel a warmth inside your tummy as Fyodor positions himself between your legs as you adjust your body for him. He lets a string of spit fall on your clit, sliding down to your inner lips as he gently rubs circles over them using his fingertips. You let out a soft moan as you let your head fall on the pillow. Fyodor opens the lube, squeezing a medium portion on his palm and begins rubbing the dildo, making it wet. He aligns it with your inner lips, gently thrusting half of it in and out. You feel goosebumps spread all over your body almost immediately. He starts thrusting the dildo in and out of you completely, its full length stimulating all of your sweet spots. You let out a few softer moans, your cunt already clenching around it.

Fyodor turns on the sucking toy and places it on your clit, immediately earning louder moans from you. The sensation makes you gasp, it's intense and it feels too good. You squeeze the sheets with your hands, body already trembling. Fyodor speeds up his movement, relentlessly sliding the dildo in and out of your sensitive pussy. Your cunt feels so full, your body feels so hot and your clit feels so nicely stimulated that it brings tears to your eyes. Your orgasm builds up quickly, short gasps escaping your throat as your body begins tensing up, besides your hips quivering from time to time. Fyodor keeps observing your reactions, eager to ruin them very soon.

You let out a little "please don't stop" as your orgasm reaches its edge, almost there. He swiftly removes the sucking toy and slows down the thrusts, ruining yet another orgasm of yours.

"Sorry dear, my hands got tired." he says in such an innocent tone, but you can't help your annoyance. You click your tongue as you sigh out, approaching orgasm completely melting away.

"I seem to be quite weak, too." he emphasizes the last word and it flies over your head. He slowly starts thrusting the dildo, picking up the quick pace from before. You gasp in as it keeps stimulating your g-spot, making all sensations of an orgasm but not giving you one. Fyodor places the toy back on your clit and as soon as you gasp in, he pulls it away. He repeats this couple of times, edging your release with each time he does. You feel the frustrating warmth under your skin, soft moans and gasps mixing in with sounds of disappointments and neediness every time your release gets delayed.

Fyodor chuckles at your desperate state as he begins thrusting the dildo even faster, this time keeping the sucking toy longer on your clit. Your orgasm builds up quickly again, tingling warmth spreading inside your lower tummy. Your filthy sounds become louder and as soon as you are just about to cum, he pulls away the toy and keeps the dildo still inside of you.

"You are doing this on purpose!" you almost yell out, evidently frustrated.

"Not at all dear, I am simply too weak to give you what you need. Don't you feel any sympathy for such an incapable man like myself?" he says in a tone he uses when he so obviously toys with people.

"Then give it to me! I will do it if you can't!" you say loudly, so needy for an orgasm.

"I can't do that, you dirty little brat." the emotions in his voice change as he says quite coldly and sharply. He starts pounding the dildo in and out of you again, abruptness making you gasp in as it feels too much.

"You are such an ungrateful little dumb thing." he says in a sharp tone, noticing your eyes fill up with tears as the sensations become overwhelming.

"You are going to cry again? How pathetic. You want my sympathies after treating me so disrespectfully? You truly are a little dumb whore." he speaks through relentlessly fucking you with a dildo, his voice irritated and heavy. You can't even speak up, choking on your own breath and sounds as the tears roll down your face.

"Spell my name. Now." he orders as he keeps going at a vigorous pace. Your mind feels cloudy and hazy.

"F-"

"Ah-" you moan and he immediately slaps your clit with his fingertips.

"Incorrect. Try again." he snickers.

"F…Y-, fuck!" you let out as he abruptly speeds up his movement, overstimulating your g-spot. He slaps your clit once again. The stinging sensation makes you quiver as your snivels fill up the room.

"Such a dumb whore you are." he says as he continues thrusting the dildo, not slowing down once. You can't think, forgetting the letters you've just spelt out for him.

"F..Y..D.-, ah!" another sharp moan of yours interrupts you as he hits your clit.

"Incorrect. You can't even spell my name, yet have the audacity to call me dumb." he emphasizes "me" and the sudden confusion makes you look at him weakly.

"I have, fuck!-, I have never called you dumb!" you defend yourself through a shaky tone.

"No? Then what was all that talk filled with praise for my opponent and how I need to keep up?" he asks sharply as he slows the movement slightly, letting you speak.

"No! That's not what I meant! I just...I was surprised someone was near your level, not that he is smarter!" you somehow voice out your words.

"I am sorry! I really didn't mean anything rude, I was just trying to encourage you!" you gasp out as he stops moving the toy, keeping it still inside of your cunt.

"Is that so?" he asks, still not fully convinced.

"Yeah.., you've been working so hard..so I just wanted to help. Sorry for the confusion...and if I seemed impressed by him. I am impressed by you, so..I suppose it came out the wrong way." you say quietly, a bit embarrassed. Fyodor's gaze searches for any signs of lying, but he seems not to be able to find any. He sighs out.

"We really need to work on your communication skills and self expression." he says as he slides the toy out of your cunt, sudden emptiness making you let out a soft gasp. You keep observing Fyodor, an abrupt thought entering your mind.

"Were you jealous?" you tilt your head, confused.

"Not at all, I simply don't take disrespect lightly which you are aware of by now." he says with a little smile as he positions himself between your legs.

"I think you were jealous." you tease him a little as he rolls the pants and boxers down his hips, exposing his hard, dripping cock.

"Suit yourself then." he says with a light chuckle. He aligns the tip of his cock with your entrance, sliding it inside easily. While doing so, he swiftly takes his top off, dropping it to the side. You let out a mellow whimper as he leans closer to you, placing faint kisses over your neck. His thrusts are soft and slow, making your aching pussy leak precum. Fyodor lets out a whimper, trembling lips barely touching your skin.

"Do you forgive me?" you ask softly and he nods, shaky breath warming up your neck as he thrusts sloppily.

"Mhm." he lets out softly in your ear, a pleasure sucking him in.

"You don't seem tired anymore." you chuckle a bit as you faintly drag your fingertips over his waist and back.

"It's a surprise what an irritation can do to a person." he says in a more steady, silvery tone as he speeds up his movement just a bit more, not wishing to speak anymore. You dig your fingernails into the soft flesh of his back as your eyes roll back. The way his pelvic area kisses your clit makes your body tremble as he keeps stimulating your sensitive spots inside. You let out shaky moans that combine with his shaky whines, your pussy tightening around him. Messily, you slide one of your hands between your bodies, reaching your overly needy clit. You begin rubbing little circles, an immediate breath of bliss escaping your lungs. You feel your pussy leaking even more precum, resulting in Fyodor sucking a deep breath in, his whorish sounds becoming more shaky. He continues kissing your neck, making longer pauses in between each as his body tenses up, mind over indulged in the sensations your pretty, warm pussy was providing for him.

Your moans pick up their pace as does your orgasm, building up quickly. Fyodor bites on the small portion of your neck, his lips parting as his teeth keep still, just to let out breathy moans as your pussy keeps on clenching. Your other hand keeps digging its fingernails into his back as you move your head back, letting out more guttural sounds of pleasure. You feel the waves of hot sensation spreading inside your body, its core in your lower tummy as Fyodor's cock keeps stimulating all of your sensitive spots. You speed up the movement of your fingers, even though they twitch from time to time as your release comes closer.

Fyodor lets go of your neck and you instinctively move your head towards him, placing a messy kiss on his lips. He parts your lips with his own trembling ones and his tongue finds yours quickly. Your kiss becomes passionate and messy as he starts thrusting even faster, making your release bubble up to its edge. You keep whimpering and moaning into each other's mouths, muffling the sounds at the same time. Your legs begin to shake as you finally feel your orgasm washing over you in tame waves. Fyodor bites your bottom lip as he feels your pussy clench around him, his cock twitching in response. Your head falls back, lips parting away from him. Fyodor keeps up his pace and so does your fingers.

You let out a chain of loud, deep and prolonged moans as your climax reaches its peak, so intense that it makes you lightheaded. Fyodor lets out higher whines, his forehead falling next to you as he speeds up the movement of his hips even more, this time prolonging your orgasm. Your hand moves into his hair, gripping on it tightly as your moans turn into dim whimpers, throat dry and body exhausted. You stop the movement on your clit, moving your hand on Fyodor's waist, barely holding it as you feel weak as your orgasm slowly melts away.

He keeps on whimpering in your ear, his hips quivering as he tries to keep up the steady movement, but unsuccessfully as his own release is approaching. You move your own hips a bit, trying to meet his and he lets out a sharp gasp as he reaches his orgasm suddenly. You feel his cum filling you up, a sensation making a hot knot inside your tummy. Your pussy feels too sensitive as Fyodor keeps on messily riding out his orgasm while quickly and breathlessly whining in your ear.

Your grip on his hair weakens and your arm falls to the side as he slowly calms down, stopping his movement and resting on top of you for a moment. You are still trying to catch your breath, feeling awfully tired and sleepy. Fyodor slowly pulls out, barely rolling to the side. He lays next to you and you turn around lazily, putting your leg over his hip as he puts his face on your chest. You brush your fingers through his hair, in a gentle and tired manner. Fyodor moves his hand over your waist, pulling you closer to him. Both of you close your eyes, feeling exhausted. You yawn, before speaking up sleepily.

"It's not that I dislike this side of you, but we need to work on your jealousy issues, you know?" you ask in a teasing tone as you keep on playing with his hair.

"I have no issues, your awful communication skills are to blame. However, don't get a foolish idea to do this on purpose in the future." he says in a quieter tone, evidently dozing off.

"I will think about it." you let out teasingly, but the tiredness washes over you, both of you falling asleep almost immediately.

The End :) <3

I hope you liked it and enjoyed it! :) <3

Thank you so much for all the love and support, it means the world to me! :) <3

Forehead kisses for everyone :3

#fyodor x reader #fyodor x reader smut #fyodor smut #fyodor dostoyevsky x reader #fyodor dostoyevsky x reader smut #fyodor bsd #fyodor dostoyevsky bsd #bsd imagines #bsd smut #fyodor x y/n #fyodor x you #fyodor dostoyevsky smut

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lovingksuki · 7 months

Text

✰ SECRET ADMIRER

— highschoolers bakugo x fem!reader

synopsis: an anonymous love letter appears in your locker on valentine's day. surprised, you and your best friend start an investigation to uncover who was that person observing you from afar. meanwhile, a flushed bakugo tries to ruin your plans on the undercover alongside his shitty-haired buddy

cw: sfw; mostly fluff; lil angst; very insecure bakugo; romantic comedy; puberty; silly jokes; little swearing.

a/n: this is part one of three. let me know if you want this mini series to be continued :) and pls be patient since english is not my first language hehe ;;

word count: 1k

"oh c'mon! what if there's a heart shaped letter in your locker? you never know..."

"there's not."

"you can't be so certain about it. my girl is never looking her surroundings, who knows if someone got their heart pierced by an arrow?" mina pointed.

"shut up, every year the same thing..." you rushed and right after turning the corridor you captured by distance. "ok. maybe you were right." you said finding the metal compartment half closed.

then you grabbed the red paper in her hands, paying attention to the almost dry daisy taped lazily on the front; glanced around not spotting anything or anyone suspicious about it, then turned to your best friend.

"i got a feeling you're part of this." spurred.

"whoa, i was joking just now! even i am chocked. who's the sender?" the pink colored girl held her hands up in protest.

"i don't know, there's only my name." you stated carefully sticking the little flower out.

"let me search for a hint." mina took the letter from your hands suddenly, mumbling while quickly skimming through the words looking for something useful. she gasped before smirking at the content and then continued mumbling.

"enjoying yourself!?" you sighed waiting.

"mkay, done." handed the letter. "nothing between the lines. who wrote this sure is smart enough to not leak their identity."

"that's for me to decide. you ain't the smartest kind." you chuckled.

"hey!"

"more like the pretty girl type."

"you sly thing! you received a love letter, who's the pretty girl again?" both laughed at the statement and headed out to the cafeteria. "not reading it?"

"can't think when i am this hungry. we should hurry."

at the lunchtime the subject was the same. you two were discussing with your mouths full, sitting by yourselves on a table far enough from eavesdropping.

"hear me out. there's this line that seems to be rewritten over and over, it's a bit tattered." you mentioned. "it says: 'i'm still hesitant about what you think about me' and thanks to the pressure they put on paper seems to be 'afraid of who i am' underneath."

"adds a lot of nothing to our investigation. that's what everybody would say in a confession, i mean, nobody likes being dumped." pinky pointed out unfazed.

"yeah but, i don't think it's meaningless, what if this person is truly insecure about themselves." you pondered.

"or they're just ugly." mina chewed on her meal.

"i don't think that's the case... remember when you told me that thing you read about pretty boys' handwriting?" you brought up.

"did you actually believe that!? was just a discussion in a girl's meme forum." the pink one remarked.

"but there's some truth behind it. if you consider that people with a smaller hand can grip on a pen better when writing, also means the ones with big hands tend to have a sloppier handwriting!" you stated confident about your theory.

"girl, you're tripping... does this mean we're going across the school measuring boys' hands?" mina smirked unconvinced.

"precisely."

꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦

"what a fucking waste of time..." said raging.

"dude, calm down. at least you poured your feelings out..." eijiro reassured his bestfriend trying to point out the bright side of things.

but while he's the bright side, katsuki was the dark side. they say a good relationship is based in balance, in this case it makes total sense.

"you even checked if she read it?" asked the red haired.

"when she and mina walked by me at the corridor they were whispering and giggling like little lambs. probably laughing at that letter though." pouted.

"you're being paranoid, they're always like that."

"they're up to something..." bakugo murmured.

whilst the two struggled to put up with the 'plan cupid', the other two were constructing the 'plan pretty boy's handwriting'.

"as i was saying, a pencil has six inches approximately, we're looking for a hand as big at least. if we measure our hands we can compare with theirs without them noticing." stated grabbing a pen off her case.

"you're truly a genius. i refuse to accept you failed strategic test last week." mina complimented.

"i was in a really bad mood that day... anyway!" justified while traced her own hand in a empty page of mina's notebook. "fifteen centimeters. do yours and we're good to go!" demanded agitated.

when looking for friends of theirs, the girls pretended to just have a walk around the school.

"what if it was a girl?" mina asked suddenly.

"i doubt. how many girls with large hands do we know?" claimed.

"mmm... asui-san?"

"you've got to be kidding...!" pulled her phone and dialed quickly a number. "hey!" you smiled. "no, nothing really urgent, i just wanted to ask... are you perhaps in love with me?" questioned without any filter.

"girl you gone mad?" mina whispered holding back a laughter.

"uh, ok. anyways, thank you. we talk later, kisses!" you hung up. "see? that's not her."

"woah you're so straightforward! it scares me sometimes..."

the boys exited the restroom still discussing, but when the blondie heard a certain voice he stepped back. pulled eijiro's tie to hide behind a pillar with him. "shut it!" mouthed.

"i just wanted to ask... are you perhaps in love with me?"

"uh, ok."

his face started to burn as he became more anxious. could only hear a few words, enough to bring the boy into complete state of panic.

after the girls left he released his breath.

"stop overthinking! she just received a love letter, of course she's curious!" kirishima said.

"i didn't say anything, shitty-hair!"

"your face shows!" sighed. "seriously, how can she be so oblivious? just look at you! you're terrible at hiding."

"i- i... she doesn't even talk to me that often..." katsuki pitied.

"bro, you're not the friendliest around here. but she doesn't seem to be afraid of you." kiri pondered. "have you ever tried to smile?"

he looked at the red spiked guy and opened a shy smile.

"a bit more."

every time bakugo tried to put on smiling face it looked creepy. "be more genuine." said eijiro.

trying his best, but even with so much effort... his buddy analyzed. "ok. it looks absolutely terrifying."

"shit."

#mha fanfiction #mha bakugou #mha fluff #bakugou katsuki #bakugou x fem!reader #bakugo x reader #self insert #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #bakugou x you #bakugou fluff #bnha bakugo katsuki #katsuki bakugo x reader #katsuki bakugo x y/n

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eldritch-spouse · 8 months

Note

i cannot believe no one has suggested this

imagine zizz walking in (or waking up to) on his queen humping one of the plushies

[This isn't exactly what you want it to be, but I had a massive brain vomit moment. Fem reader. There's art in this one.]

TW: Plushophilia (??? There's a doll monster is what I'm trying to say)

Rare are the days where you wake up alone in bed.

Zizz actually sleeps in quite a bit later than you. Granted he usually also settles down for the night much later. Nevertheless, it has become a habit of yours to wake up between his arms, tucked under his chin, or perhaps even being spooned, his hips somewhat restless behind yours.

It must have become an increasingly important aspect of your routine, because you find waking up alone to be more and more insupportable lately. So much so that you groan, immediately disappointed as soon as you register reality- No extra warmth, no gentle breathing beside you, no rumbling purr or claws petting across your hair.

Part of you wants to close your eyes, roll to the side, grab the nearest pile of softness and go back to sleep- Waiting for your King to return so you can wake up properly. And yet, another part is also restless.

What is he up to?

It's not as if you're worried about Zizz, he's probably busy with some project you can't be fucked to care about, but you're almost... Indignant. Some petty little voice in you demands you find the King and plop yourself on his lap, impeding him from working any further as punishment for denying you wake up affections.

When you yawn and make to get up, a slight tug is felt on your arm. Reflexively looking back, you find several of the stuffed companions you share with the ruler crowding your side, as if knowing you intend to leave and attempting to beckon you otherwise. It's tempting.

But not enough to halt you.

Because only a few moments later, you sluggishly take a stand, moving towards the large doors leading out of the bedchambers. All is fine until you turn one of the handles and... Nothing moves.

It actually takes your sluggish brain a couple of static-fillled seconds to register that. The realization followed by another tug, a harsher one to the twin handle, a fierce shove. Nothing. Not a budge, nor a creak.

They're... Locked?

In the relative darkness of the room -Kept this way to cater to Zizz's light-sensitive eyesight- You only note the piece of paper stuck to the left door after an embarrassing amount of jostling the fancy handles. Irritation makes you rip the notice away, squinting so as to make sense of the scribbled writing.

" Your excellence,

I lament to inform you that King Zizz has been called for an extremely urgent matter that requires his immediate attention. Under his command, I was instructed to keep you inside the bed chambers at all costs until his arrival. According to Lord Zizz, it should only take a little while. You may even still be sleeping by the time he returns.

Regards,

Jayde. "

Fury makes you crumple the sheet of paper into a ball, chucking it at the doors as if the force alone would cause them to suddenly part ways.

He's just going to keep you locked up in here like a doll? Like some pet?! The nerve.

For as much as Zizz says he loves you infinitely, incidents like these really serve to highlight a bitter truth you often turn a blind eye to. That he thinks less of you, that he doesn't trust you to handle the smallest things on your own. Maybe because he thinks you can't, that you're so limited to the point of having to be kept in a bedroom like some child.

Mind ping-ponging between all sorts of unearthed emotions, you consider behaving in exactly the way he seems to see you- By throwing a petulant tantrum befitting of someone truly as limited as he thinks you are. And just as a not so smart voice in your head congratulates you for such a thought, a touch halts that process entirely.

You jolt slightly, glancing down. One of the stuffed dolls from Zizz's endless collection lies on the carpeted ground, little rounded hand outstretched towards your foot. Have you seen this one before? It's hard to tell.

He's cute, a crocheted demonoid made of a mix and mash of pink yarn hues. The only other color on him is black, on his wide button eyes, a silk bow around his neck and his adorable tail adorned with jingling bells at the bottom. Why, he's so lovable! Is this one new in the King's collection? That doesn't make sense, Zizz would have shown you if that were the case, he always does. It must have been one you just don't get to see as often- Lord knows some of them are perpetually buried in the ocean of fluff and warmth that suffocates this room at times.

" Aw, aren't you cute? " You coo at the little thing, eyeing his little curved horns as you speak mostly to yourself. They listen however, you know they do.

" You want me to stay? If you reeeeally mean it, I guess I can... "

The choice isn't there, you're just trying to make yourself feel better and avoid getting angry until Zizz comes back.

As soon as you turn back, jingling and rustling can be heard. It's not cause for alarm, you're well aware these cotton and silken entities move on their own frequently, especially when no one's looking their way -It stopped being creepy after the first few days- So you assume the little pink thing is going to crawl back to its resting spot now that you have been successfully convinced to drop the doors.

Instead, you feel a much bigger pair of hands quickly shove your back. You yelp, a clumsy foot catching on your flowing nightgown and swiftly sending you tumbling onto the bed. It'd be lying to say that a small inkling of fear didn't course through you, steadily growing as you gather enough wit and reflex to roll around on the mattress and spot your assailant.

At the foot of the bed stands none other than the same plush you just talked to.

But he shifted.

Now much bigger, the yarn that once composed him has become a finely molded pattern over a much more humanoid form that shifts and moves exactly like your own. An amused, definitely mischievous smile creases the edges of his soft cheeks, covering up a bit of those button eyes- Surprisingly expressive for a thing that's supposed to have a fixed expression. It's extremely odd to admit this, but the more you look at him, the more weirdly attractive he becomes in spite of his strange fabric-based biology. Part of you almost wants to reach out and touch him.

Mild apprehension doesn't allow you to.

These creatures only shift into bigger forms of themselves when there's a good reason for such. Like imminent danger, intruders, tasks that require more refined figures. Most of the time, from what you recall being told, they're content to ragdoll and observe things or simply become inactive. So why is this one so active? Does he think you're going to try to escape? Yeah right, no amount of luck could make it happen.

" ... Buddy? "

The plush monster perks up, and when the ringing of tiny bells hits your ears, you realize he's wagging his tail happily. Not a second later, the yarn entity has climbed atop the bed and looms over your form with great stitched glee in its face. You don't even get to ask him what's happening before the pink thing sinks to snuggle against you in a warm hug.

He's so bizarrely soft.

As the monster silently rubs and nuzzles his head everywhere on your neck, chest and cheek, you can only marvel at the almost unbelievable smoothness of his... Skin? Not really. The sensation is so new that you don't even deign to think too much about what's happening, happily giggling when you bury your own face in the pleasant pink fuzz of his of his head. Okay then, he's just feeling affectionate, you can deal with that. In spite of the plush texture, experimentally grabbing at his arms reveals that there isn't as much give to him as you'd expect, like something more solid lurks beneath that friendly and deceitfully fragile exterior.

You toy with his bow a little, twirling the ends as you sigh.

" I'm not leaving, you know? I can't. "

He nods under your chin, face dipping towards your cleavage as smooth claws edge up the length of your legs. And while you allow it to happen, the gears start turning in your head. They're not really supposed to do that, are they?

You've seen many of the dolls shift, seen them perform a couple of menial tasks, asking for attention, but you never saw them... Being so bold. Sexual even. Are they capable of that? You'd like to think you're not a pervert, but built so well as this one is, maybe this is his function. You have caught the King with pillows and stuffed bedmates between his legs before- It wouldn't be that surprising if they're meant to do this from time to time.

But then... The one currently groping your thighs... If you let him continue, would you be cheating on the demonlord? No. Surely not, right? He uses them for pleasure too, it would be hypocritical of Zizz to become upset over something like this. You hope, at least. Still, you're not sure how to feel about it.

As you lie there still, deliberating on the situation unfolding, his shiver-inducing dance over your legs reaches your thighs. He's gentle, massaging from the outside, upwards, gripping your hips, then following the line of your panties back down to your inner thighs, a sensual and slow stroke that has you relaxing and sighing in pleasure. You recognize the motions, these are gestures Zizz likes to use on you, to hear you softly moan and smile, spreading your legs for him further. It shouldn't surprise you that some -Or all- Of his plushies would know how to touch you too. They're constant observers.

He looks content to have you so pliant beneath him, and you're sure the monster would be rumbling like its master if it was capable of making sounds. The frequent jingling of his swatting tail is evidence enough of his approval. Yet, as pleasant as this is all being, you reach for those pink wrists when a claw tries to slide your undergarments aside.

" Hey. " You start, having to squeeze a little so he puts his whole attention on your face. The doll monster tilts his head. " I'm... We shouldn't do anything, Zizz isn't here... "

The entity tilts his head more, as if not really understanding where you're coming from, silence stretches on for a small eternity between you, your heart pounding in your chest.

You can admit to yourself that it's more than a little thrilling to give this a shot. To see what it's like to bed one of the King's stuffed dolls. After all, there must be a reason he likes them so much... But you don't want to go too far. Not without knowing more.

" We can't- Uhm, we can't have sex, okay? " Gods you've never cringed at yourself so hard.

The doll seems to flinch at the mention of sex, horned head shaking frantically as he quickly removes his featherlite fingers off your figure entirely. Though a smile stretches his yarned cheeks when he wags a finger at you, proceeding to use both hands to frame... His slit.

Because it can only be that between his legs. It's the same exact color as the rest of his body, blending together amidst all the rounds of fabric that compose his body. You can't be blamed for having missed it at first. More important however, is the strand of white yarn stitched over said area, in the same way you'd sew someone's wounds, though with a small bow at the bottom.

It takes a bit for you to piece what it means together.

The monster reaches to try and slip a finger under the yarn, trying to dislodge it off him, but it seems to be well secured. He then casually taps your groin, then his, shaking his head again.

Ah.

" Oh! " Your eyes widen. " So you can't... It doesn't come off? " Penetration is not on the table.

The pink doll nods. Honestly, you have no idea what kind of cock this type of being can have...

" O- Okay. " That does make you feel better about things for now. Though it begs the question. " Did Zizz put that on you? "

Another nod.

His brows furrow as he seems to be thinking of something for a few quiet moments. Then, a tad suddenly, the doll moves off you to thump soundlessly beside you on the bed. He spreads his legs some and makes an eager beckoning gesture towards you.

Not really understanding but too curious to deny him, you do as told, getting the picture when he slides one of your legs over his right one, making you straddle it. This time, when he looks at your face and slowly slides your panties to the side, there's no misunderstanding between you.

Not that your face isn't heating up at the implication.

The monster's chest shifts and his mouth parts like he's mutely lauging. And it makes sense, the doll has probably seen you and Zizz get up to some pretty shameless stuff in this very room, he likely thinks it's hilarious that you're hesitating to do something as simple as ride his thigh.

" Oh shush. "

Soft claws rub down your back, cupping the globes of your ass underneath your gown and starting a slow, luscious rhythm on his leg. The monster happily allows you to adjust, learn what angle provides the best friction on your clit while he kneads and gropes greedily at your cushion.

You don't really consider yourself to be much of a humper.

Of course, you've done it before a couple of times, the difference here being that none of the things you used would stare knowingly at you, would smirk when you shuddered in pleasure or even minutely push back against your movements. They wouldn't squeeze approvingly at your hips and waist, reach to fondle the peaks of your tits- To say that a plush lusts after you would be madness. At least until today.

Restless thighs clench around his own as you speed up, rocking harder, grinding yourself, soaking his fabric in your own chase for a peak that you didn't even know you were craving so bad up until now. Distantly, you wonder how many are watching now, if they feel any jealousy towards the brave and lucky plush that dared make a move.

Unfortunately, you're having trouble getting there on your own, cursing underneath your breath while your body tenses and coils but never enough to trigger that sweet release. There's no way he doesn't see you struggling and sweating on him, the little bastard's likely just enjoying the show. Ugh.

" Mm- Finger me, please. "

And yet, no matter how sweet your tone was, how you used manners, he didn't budge, smile climbing further up his rosy face as he shook his head, tail thumping on the sheets. The blatant denial makes you halt entirely, frowning.

" Wh- What do you mean no?! " That sounded a lot more aggressive than you meant it to be.

But still, these monsters are servants, their purpose to fulfill the royalty's orders, that's what they strive for. If you tell one to touch you a certain way, surely they'd be more than happy to do so, right?

The entity merely shakes his head again. You're getting a little annoyed by that gesture, even if it's one of the few ways he can actually communicate with you coherently.

Your arms cross beneath your chest, not so much mad as you are confused. " Aren't you technically supposed to obey me? "

The doll shakes with laughter again, and part of you almost wants to push him right off the bed, hormones still jumping in your system. He wags an index again, then wiggles his fingers above his head, between his horns.

As he repeats the motion, you can finally focus enough to make sense of it. He's trying to imitate the blob of energy that his master sports between his own horns. That little thing you've tried to grab before even though it's touch averse, slipping between your digits right at the moment you think you've got it.

The message is clear- He obeys to Zizz specifically.

You make a 'tsk', rolling your eyes at the monster. " So you're not going to help me? "

Another shake.

" Not even a liiittle bit? " And you reach a hand beneath the silk of his dark bow, scratching at his chin.

The contact has him leaning instantly, attitude faltering, his response coming in a clumsy shrug. A sort of "We'll see".

Fine.

Undettered, you offer him no more sweet talk when you resume the previous pace, caring none for his comfort as you steady yourself on his abdomen to harshly thrust your hips on his leg, almost jostling him for a second. The plush monster's tail wags near violently, apparently loving this newfound roughness.

You're not sure what has him so enthusiastic out of nowhere, but any suspicion drops immediately at the first hint of the bumping and grinding his own leg against your twitching cunt, hands eagerly helping you spread yourself. He practically fucks you onto him, seeming to shiver in his own weird manner at the high and whiny noises you belt out.

When your orgasm crashes upon you, the pink creature doesn't slow down, making sure to milk it as hard as he can, he himself enjoying getting humped while you finish, soaking him further in your arousal. Your legs are still rocking gently, the first aftershocks settling in when-

" I'm glad you were able to entertain yourself. "

The way you jump off the monster nearly has your soul leaping out of your throat when you whirl around to find none other than Zizz sitting by the edge of the bed, chin framed by his palms as if he were watching a movie unfurl.

" D- Did-? " How long was he actually here for? How come he manages to be as silent as a mouse when he's so huge?! " I'm so sorry- "

The demonlord huffs. " For... What exactly? "

" I- Well- Your-...? " You glance beneath yourself to the plush monster still laying beneath you with a slightly smug smirk on his face.

Zizz nudges you off the doll carefully, tugging him down closer with a lot less care as he removes his veil. Wide eyes blink in panic, you assume he's going to maybe hurt the entity or chastise you for making a mess of his treasured collection piece- But surprisingly, he clutches the toy's leg and casually licks the slick of your climax that wasn't rapidly absorbed by yarn.

O-Oh okay.

The other seems to like this well enough, letting himself ragdoll, once again wagging that jingling appendage.

" ... He was only doing his job. "

The King releases his minion, sparing you a lidded look.

" You can use me now. "

(As a bonus, here's what the ""doll"" looks like.)

#Zizz oc #pinnie's art #yandere monster #yandere teratophilia #monster boyfriend #monster x reader #terato tag #monsterfucker #not sfw #minors dni

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talaok · 9 months

Note

I was thinking about the reader having a close guy friend who has a crush on her and it makes pedro jealous and angry that why the reader can't realize it?

pairing: Pedro Pascal x reader

warnings: angst, jealousy

"You know, I was thinking that tomorrow we could go to that sushi place you like" Pedro called from the bathroom, as he finished brushing his teeth.

You smiled to yourself as you got into bed before remembering something.

"Tomorrow?" you asked

"yes" He nodded, walking into the bedroom "We haven't gone there in a while"

"It's just...Steve asked me to go out with him tomorrow"

Even if he was turned around, you could see all his muscles tense.

"Steve?"

"yeah," you confirmed, "maybe we could go out the day after tomorrow?"

"Just the two of you?" He ignored your proposal, finally facing you

The question confused you a little bit

"Yup, he said we haven't seen each other in a while and he missed me"

"of course" he chuckled, a trace of bitterness in his tone

"What?" you frowned

"Nothing I'm just wondering if he'll finally use this opportunity to propose"

"What are you talking about baby?"

"oh c'mon you know"

"no, I don't know"

He was looking at you as if you had just admitted to not knowing how much 2+2 is.

"y/n listen as much as I'd like to believe you, I know you're way too smart not to know what I'm talking about"

You threw your blanket off your body, suddenly hot.

"Pedro" you stated as calmly as you could "I'm telling you, I have no idea what you're trying to say"

"oh really?" he raised his eyebrows, "you don't know? You don't know why I don't like when you hang out with the same guy who has not missed a single opportunity to tell you how beautiful or amazing or perfect you are? Who texts you 24/7? Who literally comes running whenever you need anything?"

Your mouth was parted but you needed a moment to process his words before being able to come up with some of your own.

"What are talking about?"

He sighed frustratedly, running a hand through his hair

"I'm talking about the fact that he likes you! That he- actually you know what, I'm talking about the fact that he's in love with you y/n!"

And there it was

It was as if time had stilled, as if the world had stopped spinning.

Why was he getting so angry about this? How long had he been keeping this to himself?

And most importantly-what the actual fuck was he on about?

"Steve is my friend Pedro- I've known him for like six years, just cause he's a good friend doesn't mean he likes me" you sighed "Since when do you get jealous? This is not like you"

"are you serious?" he dropped his hands by his sides "You seriously don't fucking see it?"

"what? What is there to see?" you gestured, getting up from the bed

"y/n he gave you roses on valentines day!" he huffed a laugh raising his head to the ceiling "What friend does that?"

"that-that doesn't mean anything it was just a nice gesture it didn't mean anything"

"of course" he paused a moment before looking at you again, so many emotions clouding his eyes they almost looked a different color "y/n I don't know if you're lying to yourself or if you actually don't see it, but I'm telling you- he likes you"

"wh-" you stuttered, unable to do anything but beg your brain to start working again.

"he looks at you like your an angel sent from heaven y/n" he sighed "and you are, you know that, but I'm the only one who's supposed to feel that way" he said "not- not fucking Steve too"

"he-he's just a friend" you muttered,

you didn't know if you were telling yourself or him anymore

"I know he is" he nodded "but I also know that's not everything he wants to be"

"how-how would you know?"

"Because I'm not blind, baby!" he insisted, getting closer to you "because I would bet a million dollars that if you called him right now and told him you liked him he'd come running!"

"that's not true! We're just friends- he- he doesn't like me that way"

"y/n c'mon!" he groaned "How do you think it makes me feel? To see him drooling over my girlfriend every time we go out?"

"Pedro he doesn't like me!"

"He does! And I'm tired of pretending he doesn't" Frustration was tracing his every word "He needs to get a fucking grip, Someone needs to tell him how things actually are, and if you don't wanna do it then I gladly will"

"what do you even mean?"

"I mean telling him to back off!"

"Pedro I-"

"please-" he stopped you, his voice lower now, more pleading "please don't tell me again that he doesn't like you"

"but-"

"ok how 'bout this" he interrupted you again, "You ask him"

"What?"

"yeah, if you're so sure he doesn't like you why not just ask him?"

"Because... because it's weird"

"it's not weird- and if he's an honest man he'll tell you the truth"

You stared at him

Was he serious?

"Are you being serious?"

"one hundred percent" he nodded "Tomorrow" he stated, "you ask him, and I'm coming too"

"you're not coming"

He cocked an eyebrow "I'll be outside, I don't want him trying any weird shit"

"Pedro..."

"I just- I'm tired of it y/n"

You sighed "fine" before sitting back on the bed, feeling all your energy drained.

He sat beside you after a moment

"How long have you kept this to yourself?" you finally broke the silence, turning to him just to find his gaze already on you.

"Since I met him"

"Pedro...that was 2 years ago"

"I know"

You paused, again

"You know that I would never cheat on you, right?"

"of course I do" he sighed "It's just- him... I don't like him"

You let out a small laugh "Yeah, I gathered"

"I can't help it" he murmured, his hand going to stroke your cheek "There can only be one man all over you" he smiled a lazy smile "and luckily... that man happens to be me"

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justporo · 9 months

Text

A Night of Song and Laughter (Part 2)

In which there happens to be some smut... which I didn't plan for in this part but Astarion is goddammn wicked and does what he wants (you go bby) - that includes making Tav squirm while being pinned against a random wall. You can also read this and more parts on AO3 already!

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Astarion/Fem!Tav (You)

These gifs are not mine btw... It's from here!

You were almost at the destination. Before the last turn and before the tavern came into view, you stopped just at the corner and softly tugged at Astarion’s arm. He turned to you and looked at you askingly: “What is it, my love? Weren’t you so keen to get here quickly.”

You bite your lip. Astarion’s gaze immediately drops to your lips. “Listen, you know, I just told you how I hung out very often at this place with my old crew. So uhm, it might be possible we run into them tonight.” You felt yourself getting nervous – you weren’t exactly sure how you felt of your plan all of a sudden. The vampire angled his head slightly to one side. “Soo?”, he drawled slowly and lifted an eyebrow.

“You know, it might be… weird”, you said and rolled your shoulders slightly. “You mean weird, because you just disappeared one day and now you just appear again with this stunningly beautiful man at your side, your incredibly smart and loving and cunning and witty soulmate”, Astarion started. You rolled your eyes at him but couldn’t help at how your cheeks probably flushed when he called the two of you soulmates. “Yes, kind of the weird, I meant”, you interrupted quickly before the pale elf could continue his self-praise. “I mean most of them would be cool about it, it’s not like we don’t all have our secrets or that some didn't disappear for some time, but…”, you bit your lip again.

Astarion pressed a kiss on your lips: “But what, darling? Don’t you think after all we’ve been through, we can’t get through meeting your old friends that might be a bit upset at you for being gone? And bringing a new acquaintance to the party?” “It’s just – if they’re here, Eodin is probably with them. And we kinda had a th- I mean he had a thing for me and we kinda also – you know – slept with each other a few times and… But I’ve never really been with him, like romantically – at least from my side, it was just sex and… like you said, you and I, we are soulmates… and the sex wasn’t even that goo…”, you started to blurt out.

Astarion’s eyebrows rose at this new revelation but his signature smirk quickly reappeared: “So, what you are telling me, is, that we might run into your old affair who – from what I think I caught from your rambling – might still be romantically interested in you.” While speaking, Astarion put his arms around you and pulled you closer. One of his hands moved up to your neck, fingers softly tangling in your hair, the other hand moving to your butt, clad in leather pants, and squeezing. “And who wasn’t even worth a mention so far because – as you just explained – it was just sex and at that even so unremarkable you probably didn’t even remember until just now.” You melted into his touch, his ruby eyes sparkled hungrily as he moved you back step for step until he had you with your back to the wall at the corner you stopped. He pinned your body against the stones and moved his right thigh between your legs to make you immobile. His one hand that was caressing your ass moved to lift your leg to wrap around his hips. His other hand curled into your hair and dragged your head back the slightest bit. You couldn’t help to let out a moan as his sudden change in demeanor. Your lips opened and you could feel how melting hot lava started to fill your core, your nipples, which pressed against his chest under your linen shirt, peaking. Astarion’s face was directly above you. He licked his lips slowly and smiled hungrily at you with an open mouth. You could clearly see his fangs shimmering in the light of the street lanterns. He groped your ass again, receiving another moan from you.

“I bet”, he continued and breathed out heavily. He was just as affected by this as you were – but he was in charge. “I bet, he couldn’t even get you as worked up in one whole night as I can in mere seconds, fully clothed and on the open street, my love.” He enunciated every single word but especially the last two. “Let alone make you come”, he drawled and grinned once more, his fangs being on full display. Then he kissed you – his mouth taking yours eagerly and making the heat inside you grow even hotter, manifesting itself in a pulsing sensation between your legs. His fingers in your hair sent shivers down your spine. You were like wax in his hands, gifting yourself to him willingly.

His sheer confidence and sudden possessiveness turned you on massively. And it was true – there never had been anyone like him. Not in the bedroom, but neither in your heart. No one compared to him.

“I don’t think being on the open street is the setback in this scenario, Astarion”, you whispered breathlessly, when he broke the kiss. The vampire threw his head back and laughed hoarsely. “Look at you, you’re full of surprises, aren’t you? Who would have thought you might be prone to some public fun?”, he whispered moving close to your pointy ear, his lips almost touching your skin. He shifted his right leg he still had between your legs to pin you against the wall which made you involuntarily grind against his thigh clad in black leather pants. You inhaled sharply at the sudden jolt of delicious friction. A thought about if he actually would dare to take you right there on the spot raced through your mind. But frankly, at the moment you couldn’t care less.

Astarion moved his lips from your ear to your neck while dragging your head back by your hair even more to gain better access to your throat. He could see your pulse drumming with excitement and arousal. The vein at your throat pulsating promisingly. He’d been rock hard since he had you pinned to the wall but this heightened his arousal even more, making his already painful erection twitch. The tought of having you, the thought of you trusting him so much, the thought of all you already gifted him and the thought that you were his – forever - he'd never felt like this before.

His eyes shone like gemstones while he stared at the display of your racing heartbeat. If he wanted to bite you, you’d let him. You’d not only gotten used to it but you’ve also both come to enjoy it as part of your nightly trysts from time to time. You’d had to admit a little pain had driven your pleasure to newly known heights.

Astarion savored the view of your delectable neck once more before he lifted his head and his eyes went back to yours. He licked his lips again and said: “As much as I’d love to devour you right here and now, my love –“, he moved to grab your other leg and lift you in his arms while your legs already moved to tangle around his hips “- It would ruin our primary plans for the night and I wouldn’t want you to give up on them.” He turned around and set you down on the floor again. You were shortly startled and also didn’t trust yourself to already stand on your own again after his quick demonstration of his talents.

“Also”, he continued, putting one finger under his chin in thinker pose “colour me more than intrigued now to get to know your former acquaintances”. He emphasized some of the words mockingly. “You know, to find out what the ‘competition‘“ – dramatically air-quoted the word “could possibly have on me.” He grinned another mockingly not very friendly grin that showed his canines prominently. Then he laughed and pulled you against him again, kissing you deeply again. But this kiss was not about sexual prowess, just showing you how deeply he felt for you. “Come on, darling”, he said in a deep and affectionate tone after the kiss while leaning his forehead against yours “lead the way.”

#astarion #astarion x tav #baldurs gate #baldurs gate 3 #baldur's gate 3 #baldur's gate iii #astarion x reader #astarion x mc #baldurs gate astarion #astarion x oc #astarion x you #fanfic #fanfiction #but can you imagine astarion just quickly reminding you why all your exed fucking sucked?#astarion ancunin #this was posted with a glass of wine in hand #smut #a night of song and laughter

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luveline · 11 months

Note

Can we get like a roan trying to make reader and Eddie make up after they have been visibly upset at each other (but like quiet arguments/none that roan heard)?????

thank you for your request my love! dad!eddie x fem!reader

You and Eddie don't fight a lot, so when you do it's always over something serious.

You're sitting in the kitchen with tear stained cheeks trying to put pep back in your step before Roan wakes up, a huge cup of orange juice in front of you and a caffeine pill beside it. You argued pretty much all night, and now it's morning, and you're heartbroken.

The good news is that the fight is for the most part solved. You're trying not to think about it, residual anger and annoyance and a third, awful something coiling in your gut —Eddie being against you is the worst feeling in the entire world, bar nothing. You can't stand it, and perhaps it's slightly codependent to function that way, but he's the person you love most (beside his dark-haired daughter). You're mad at him and you're also so fucking sorry you upset him, and you hate yourself, and you dislike him a little bit too.

He's drinking a cup of coffee on the other side of the table. You've made up, but you certainly aren't friendly. If you don't tell each other everything it gets worse and festers into cracks you don't want in your relationship. You plan on dying with him, whenever it happens, he's gonna be by your side. If that means being honest to the point of extreme uncomfortableness, so be it.

So he told you some things about yourself that had been weighing on him, and vice versa. Fights are fights are fights. They suck no matter what they're about, and they leave you feeling grubby, but Eddie always says sorry, and you say sorry too.

Roan starts to wake up, the sound of her bed springs creaking from a floor away. You and Eddie both stand like you might go get her, which is foreign 'cos most of the time you sit at the table waiting for her. You pretend you'd been meaning to make her breakfast and Eddie curls his hand around the top of his chair as she descends the stairs and walks down the hall to the kitchen.

"Hello," Roan says, practically skipping up to the table. "Good morning! I'm missing one of my socks and um, think it fell down my bed."

"Yeah?" Eddie asks.

"We'll find it," you say.

"Good. What's wrong?"

She's deceptively smart.

"Uh, nothing," Eddie says.

Roan climbs up onto her chair with the big cushion. She looks like she might fall. Eddie puts his hands around her waist to prevent any concussions, popping a kiss on her pale cheek.

"It's too quiet," she insists.

You flick on the radio and pass over a bowl of cereal for Roan. She likes something Eddie nicknamed 'rainbow cereal', which is all the cereals you buy mixed into one bowl. It doesn't need sugar, but you pretend to put some in there to keep her appeased.

She stays standing.

Eddie asks her to sit, and she grumbles and doesn't bother. Sometimes it's better to let her do whatever harmless thing she wants to do rather than start a fight, and you're both clearly much too tired to try. Eddie holds her waist and drops kisses into the top of her head intermittently. You sip your orange juice until it's empty, the radio chugging along in the background.

"Did I do something?" Roan asks, four spoonfuls in, a frown on her little face.

"No, baby, we're just tired. Why do you think you did something?"

"Why are you tired?" she asks, ignoring Eddie's question.

"We stayed up later than usual by accident. 'Cos we didn't have someone put us to bed."

"Ask Wayne," she says. She takes another mouthful of cereal, milk sloshing all over the place.

"Good idea. We'll ask Wayne," you say.

She's convinced for a time, but breakfast ends, and neither of you know what to do after. It's a Saturday, which might explain the size of the argument. Friday is the most tiring day of the week, every week. Saturdays are empty. You might go see Wayne tonight, but beside that there's nothing planned.

Roan senses a lack of enthusiasm in the living room.

"Did something bad happen?" she asks.

"Baby, no," Eddie says, turning down her cartoons a touch. "Nothing happened, I promise. Everything is okay."

"I don't feel well," she says, and collapses into his lap dramatically, instantaneous dead weight.

She doesn't understand the anxiety she's feeling. You understand at the very least, so you meet Eddie's eyes and mouth, "Can I tell her? No details."

He nods. "Sure," he says aloud. "If you want to, go for it."

He speaks without attitude. You slide closer on the couch, arm pressed to Eddie's, and can't resist the urge to stroke an unruly strand of hair from his cheek. You pause, and then you kiss his cheek. He turns his face to yours and taps your noses together.

You smile, reassured, and squeeze his bicep.

"Me and Dad had an argument," you confess.

Roan looks up from his lap. "What?"

"We had a fight. We didn't agree about something, so we were fighting, and now we're tired because it's hard when you love someone and you want to be on the same page." You blow out a big breath. "But we made up."

"Doesn't feel like it," Roan says, pushing herself up using both arms. "You're not cuddling or anything."

"Uh, well…"

"We haven't had time," Eddie says.

"Do it now," Roan advises, scrambling backward out of Eddie's lap.

You're not a wimp, you put yourself under Eddie's arm, and he wraps you up by the shoulder, and you're both kind of stiff but at least Roan isn't worrying she did something wrong. In fact, she looks pleased. She lets Eddie take her hand and doesn't complain when he gives it three big squeezes in a row.

"You didn't do anything wrong," you say, "you know? It's me that made the mistake, Ro."

"Me too," Eddie says.

"Well, mistakes are okay. I make mistakes all the time," Roan says.

Eddie drops his cheek into the top of your head, defeated and tired and, maybe, maybe maybe maybe, he's happy too. He relaxes slowly, and you let yourself do the same, your arm held across his waist and your fingertips sliding underneath his t-shirt. You feel his skin mindlessly, cool and smooth under your touch, and figure that the fighting has been worth it if it means you get to do this again.

"Sorry, Eds," you mumble.

"I'm sorry too," he says back. "I was feeling like a dick yesterday."

"Me too," you say with a laugh.

Eddie nudges your head with his nose until he can kiss your jaw, a series of chaste, quick pecks. His affection is a blessing. You tilt your head and he makes a disbelieving Yeah? kind of sound, snorting before he tracks kisses up to your cheek and down again.

Roan jabs her arm with her toes as she stands on Eddie's thigh and hugs him. "See? That was easy."

You both turn to her with similar motivation. "Super easy," you agree, as Eddie says, "You're right. Thanks, baby."

"Welcome! Can we find my sock now? My toes are cold."

You both laugh at her, sympathy and bemusement mixed together. "Oh, babe. We can find you some socks, I'm sorry."

You stand up and swing her into your arms simultaneously, pleased when she wraps her legs around you and cheers in victory. You're not surprised when Eddie stands up behind you, resting his hand between your shoulders.

"How about we get dressed? It's Saturday. We can go somewhere, maybe we can go into Indy and have All-American?" Eddie asks.

"Burgers?" Roan asks.

You laugh into her hair. That's the plan for the day decided —Roan has a one track mind when it comes to cheeseburgers. And she should have what she wants. She saved your Saturday with time to spare.

—

more eddie, roan and reader

#eddie and roan #eddie munson x reader fluff #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson #eddie munson imagine #dad!eddie munson x reader #dad!eddie munson #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fanfic

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spacebarbarianweird · 5 months

Note

Please, what are you headcanons about Astarion and human Tav/Durge? There's obviously the angsty issue of humans having one of the shortest life spans of all DnD races but that's only as angsty as you want it to be in this setting (and the stories you can tell about it are what makes it fascinating). Still... What's your take on it? Would that be a disaster for a proud immortal elf?

Since humans are very diverse I decided to take female human Tav who isn't exactly a big girl but would be considered "curvy" by human beauty standarts.

Astarion x F!Human!Tav

Masterlist

Headcanons

You are the third child born into a big family of seven.

Unlike your sisters, you are that girl who is always teased for "eating too much" or "needing too much fabric for a dress."

It would bother you if you had issues with self-esteem. But you don't.

"At least, I have some tits and ass!" you jokingly say to people who decide to comment on your looks.

Besides, your father, a native to Frost North, has always told you that "the bigger a woman is, the more chances she survives a winter".

You inherited from your northern ancestors' red hair, the color of fire.

Freckles dance over your pale skin and, when you laugh, you can be heard in the neighboring village.

Since there's not much for you in life apart from marriage, you sign up to join an adventure party.

Being an adventurer isn't easy. It's dangerous for a lonely woman but you manage to find friends and learn how to protect yourself.

And you are still this jolly human woman who just can't allow herself to stop because your years are so short.

You probably regret this attitude when locked inside the Mindflayer's pod with a nasty tadpole behind your eyes.

You gather this group of traumatized people - it's not like you are the most competent person, but you are, at least, not experiencing the meltdown!

Astarion immediately catches your eye - he is an elf. And it's a common knowledge humans see elves as the most beautiful creatures ever.

Does he think he manipulates you into protecting him? Too bad. You decided you weren't leaving this adventure without this handsome elven man by your side.

A vampire? Even better.

You are much stronger than him and a bit taller.

You can easily pick him since his bones are so light.

And he adores your body.

Your breasts are pretty big and your thighs are soft.

He likes using your boobs as a pillow and you don't mind - because it gives you full access to his hair.

Or putting his head on your soft belly and thighs.

He also adores your body hair - especially the one in private parts.

"You know among humans it's considered ugly unless you are a man"

"No wonder human women prefer elves."

You look adorable in dresses with deep necklines and ribbons in your curly red hair.

And Astarion loves seeing you in the morning, when you, awake from your long human sleep, look at the world with puffy eyes trying to apprehend wtf you saw in your dreams.

"Don't even ask, human's dreams are fucked up."

When Astarion is distressed, you often put him on your knees and lull him like a child.

And it's difficult for him to adapt to your lifestyle.

You are considered a slow type for a human but you are still a human

You are ambitious, loud, and fast. You have so little time left, you want to experience it to the fullest.

You are smart, brave, skilled and unstoppable like a human traveler, who decided they want to reach the edge of the world.

You keep being adventurers until it's too difficult for you.

Your red hair turns white, and you have wrinkles. You aren't a jolly red-haired girl any longer.

You are a jolly old lady who can both bake cookies for neighbor kids and beat someone's abuser with a hammer.

The time passes fast and it's time for you to go.

"You were quite an adventure, Astarion", you whisper to him

"And you were everything", he replies holding his tears back.

Astarion wants to leave the moment you find rest in your grave, but your family, the loud red-haired clan doesn't let him go.

Well, it's not like any of them were ever prepared to have a vampire for an uncle but here they are.

Astarion visits them from time to time, seeing how children grow up, how new things get old, and how the village becomes a town and then a city.

Human lives are so short, they make the most of them

Astarion visits less and less and only some of the oldest residents of the city know about him.

"Oh, yeah… I remember. My grandmother once told me her great-grandfather's sister was married to a vampire."

Sitting at the seashore, waiting to sail to the Isle of Evermeet, Astarion remembers the words he once heard from an old elf.

"You need to fall in love with a human at least once in your life."

Tag list

@tugoslovenka @marcynomercy @wintersire @vixstarria @not-so-lost-after-all @ashiro20 @theearthsfinalconfession @herstxrgirl @starlight-ipomoea @micropoe10 @astarion-imagine-archive @veillsar @elora-the-slutty-songstress @fayeriess @lumienyx @astarion-beloved @tallymonster @caitlincat-95 @tragedybunny @valeprati

#spacebarbarian headcanon #dnd elves #high elves #astarion #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 astarion #bg3 #astarion romance #astarion bg3 #baldurs gate 3 #astarion headcanon #astarion headcanons #astarion x tav #astarion x you #astarion x reader #tav x astarion #astarion x f!tav #human tav

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tw1l1te · 2 months

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𝓣𝓱𝓮 𝓒𝓱𝓪𝓲𝓷 𝓗𝓮𝓪𝓭𝓬𝓪𝓷𝓸𝓷𝓼- 𝖕𝖆𝖗𝖙 1

These are from the FinalPromise!Au. Some will be directly from the og Linked Universe, as I don't envision my story as straying tooooo far from the original. I might add more in the future, but these are the ones that I am thinking of for now! This is part 1/3, which includes Time, Twilight, and Wild! :3

Warnings: mention of scars

⋆｡°✩

𝖙𝖎𝖒𝖊

Mans in his early 30s in terms of appearance (actual age is unclear)

Speaks Hylian well but writing? Not so much. Growing up in Kokiri Forest doesn't really help in terms of school smarts, so he had Wars and Sky teach him a bit later down the line.

Has a slight Southern accent, way less prominent than Twilight's though. It comes out more when he's tired or being more flirty (Or doing it on purpose to fluster Y/n.)

Him and Malon are exes? It was a situationship, they didn't really put a word on it. She was there after his quest to support him and keep a roof over his head. They're more like family/friends now

Very tall. We're talking over 6 foot here, and he will also use that to tower over Y/n. They're into that

Also pretty muscular. He was more lean muscle when he was a teen/young adult, but he's bulked up especially since donning the armor.

Has rib tattoos, similar to the Deity markings on his face.

Only has his lobes pierced, however he wants to experiment with more piercings like Twilight.

Has some scarring on his stomach from the battle at the Water Temple, its faded over the years but its still noticeable if you look hard enough

Doesn't sleep well, so takes over night watch a lot. Twilight has to stop him from not sleeping for over 48-hours as that gets him into dangerous mental space territory.

I wanna say he's one of the first member of the chain to feel something for Y/n. I see a lot of pics placing him last usually, but I feel like he's one of the first, especially having tons of time to think about it at night and being the eldest.

Although he's one of the earliest to reveal his feelings to Y/n, he's still processing and taking it slow in terms of bringing it up to the rest of the group.

𝖙𝖜𝖎𝖑𝖎𝖌𝖍𝖙

Time's his great great grandfather?? Some great, he's not quite sure

Twilight's in his early/mid 20's

His hair is a brown-gray mix, the grey becoming more prominent ever since his first time shifting into his Wolf form.

Southern drawl, need I say more

Ears are pierced, has double lobe piercings and an upper cartilage piecing

Pretty tall, close to 6 foot, maybe 5' 11"

Other than the Twili markings on his face, he has a small tattoo of a hoof to commemorate for Epona on his ankle

His markings do extend down his spine and upper arms which make a delicious sight when he's training or above Y/n

Some scarring on his legs and arms from his journey, one longer scar on his right ear from a close call with a Twilight creature once.

Senses are like tripled ever since becoming Wolfie, mr. cowboy can smell things like a mile away.

Similar to Time in terms of build, maybe slightly leaner because of his height

However his voice is the deepest of the group. Mans got the range in octaves and that sexy rasp that he will use to his advantage

Like his ancestor, one of the first to have/admit feelings toward Y/n

However, having a Wolf form also speeds up the feelings of protectiveness obsessiveness... and certain other things.

Has such a sweet tooth.

Loves chocolate so much but ever since Wolfie happened, he can barely eat any 'cause he got that dog in him

Protective of Wild too, other than Y/n, he's probably the only other person that knows what he's been through

𝖜𝖎𝖑𝖉

18-19 years old, his adventure has just recently finished

His hair is longer than in his quest to save the princess, though definitely more choppy and wolf cut-like when not in his ponytail

Definitely more lean muscle in terms of build, and is probably average in height

Has triple pieced lobes and a few cartilage piercings, plans on getting more

Left side of his body is heavily scarred, partially deaf in his left ear. Also tends to lose feeling in his left arm and leg, so he prefers to use his right side

Can actually read and speak Hylian How do you think he read everyone's diaries

As we all know, he's one of the best cooks in Hyrule and can cook almost anything, but his favorite thing to make has got to be meat curry and a simple nut cake.

After you came along and introduced him to your foods??? Oh boy he's never been so excited-

Somehow made your favorite foods better than they already were

Closer with Twilight and Legend

Takes longer to catch feelings for you, as the mere concept of feeling toward another person is still a confusing topic for him since his slumber

One of the last ones to catch feelings for you, partially in denial because his belief of not being good enough for you/being very harsh on himself

Twilight almost immediately catches onto Wild's attraction towards you, Wild's not the best at masking nervousness around you

⋆｡°✩

#yandere linked universe #yandere linked universe x reader #linked universe x reader #linked universe au #linked universe headcanons #final promise au

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pablitogavii · 8 months

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Panic

Everyone around you kept telling you 'he will cheat' or 'you'll never be enough for him' or 'he's probably thinking about those instagram models' and it was all you could think about.

What if they were right?? You were just a normal every day girl and Pablo had grown women on their knees for his attention. All of this was giving you so much anxiety!

"Good evening señora Y/l/n. How are you?" Pablo asked politely as your mom welcomed him inside smiling at his kindness. Unlike all your friends, your parents were very supportive of your relationship with the young football star.

"I'm doing pretty well Pablo, but Y/n is worrying me these days..she's barely eating and doesn't leave her room unless it's to go to school. I don't know what's wrong with my babygirl" woman said and Pablo got curious now also starting to worry what was going on since you haven't told him anything.

He's been busy last could of days preparing for champions league so you only had to face time before bed but you still didn't say something was bothering you.

"I will talk to her, don't worry. I am sure everything will be alright." Pablo smiled kindly walking upstairs where your room is at knocking at your door.

"Amor? Are you sleeping preciosa??" Pablo asked peeking into the dark room seeing you cuddled up on the bed with your phone in your hand highlighting your face.

"Pablo!!!" you said excitedly moving the blanket and opening your arms welcoming him in and he chuckled closing the door and laying besides you scooping you in his arms.

"How are you preciosa? Todo bien?" he said and you tried to fake a smile which he saw right through asking you the same question again making you sigh.

"Um..I'm feeling very anxious lately cariño.." you admit feeling tears collecting in your eyes already and he sits up a bit wanting to be able to look you in the eyes as you spoke.

"Why is that amorcito? Something happened at school or is it something about us?" he said and you got scared to answer. In your past relationship saying that something was wrong meant long hours of constant arguence.

"Um..it's nothing..don't worry about it Pablo" you try to dodge the subject but he wouldn't let you especially after hearing how worried your mom was about your health.

"If it makes you anxious, then it's something I want to worry about. It's alright, preciosa. You can tell me anything, I promise. Bueno?" he caressed you hair while speaking in a soothing tone that made you more relaxed.

"Um..everyone tells me that you will cheat..that I am not enough for you because you're a footballer..and..and I know that's not who you are but..I get scared..and then I panic" you were mumbling the last part afraid that Pablo will take offense but instead he held you tighter pulling your chin up and kissing your lips lovingly.

"Is this why you weren't eating and taking care of yourself huh princesa?" he asked holding your face gently and you nodded your head.

"And then..then I read today that Neymar cheated on his pregnant girlfriend for the second time because they sent it to me..so I just felt sick..and um I couldn't eat anything." you spoke feeling dumb for comparing someone else to Gavi who you knew loved you purely but constant pressures from the sides made you go crazy.

"Amor..listen to me. I know you're my smart girl and you already know this but every man is different and it also depends on the type of relationship he is in with a girl. Most of my friends don't want anything serious because they want that crazy lifestyle while they're young. Joder, I was the same until I met you at that coffee shop and you spilled tea into my lap..I fell in love with you amor. That's different from being attracted to you or thinking you're pretty. It's something worth staying loyal to and I would never do anything to hurt you my sweet girl..I could not bare it. All I want to do is hold you in my arms and protect you from their poisonous words!" Pablo finished hugging you tight and you sighed finally pushing those thought out of your mind and focusing on his words instead. You believed him completely, and you knew you both loved each other unconditionally.

"Are you mad at me now?" you ask fearfully looking up at his still very much soft eyes as he gave you a small smile.

"Why would I be mad amor?" he asked and once again your past relationship made you assume he would be toxic which he is not at all.

"Um..b..because I let them get into my head" you say and he shakes his head while kissing your forehead.

"No, I'm not mad because I get it. Hearing someone constantly saying something will happen makes you worried that it just might. They are jealous of us amor. They don't want us together because they can't have what we have with each other. But no way in hell am I going to let their poisonous words destroy the purest love i felt for someone in my life!" Pablo said and now you were the one who moved up and kissed his lips passionately.

"Neither will I...I'll stop talking to every single one of them. There is no one I care about more than you cariño. Tu eres mi vida." you say and Pablo kissed you again nodding his head in agreement.

"Whenever you need reassurance, just tell me preciosa..I will always give it to you." he promised and you smiled nodding your head and nuzzling it into his neck.

"Te amo Pablito.." you sigh in relief glad that was finally over and he was right there with you.

"Yo te amo muchisimo princesita" he said and the two of you cuddled up in silence for a few minutes. Shortly after, your stomach was rumbling and the two of you giggled because of it.

"Um..maybe we can have some dinner now??" you ask and he chuckled getting up and grabbing your head while walking downstairs.

"Mamá! I'm a bit hungry..is there any dinner" you say and the woman looked so relieved smiling at Pablo who nodded his head glad he could do something to help.

"Yes, it's done. And she already told us what you can eat on your diet, so don't you worry Pablo" she answered as you followed after her to the dinning room sitting at the table.

"Muchas gracias. Looks delicioso" Pablo said really loving the fact that he felt so comfortable with your family just as you do with his.

"Hopefully tastes the same! Bon appetite!" she said bringing the food while you and Pablo held hands underneath the table looking at each other longingly. It made you wonder how could you ever believe such stupid nonsense your fake friends told you.

It's really horrible what happened to Bruna again..I'm speechless but praying for her and her daughter to be finally happy <3

#pablo gavi x you #gavigif #gavi #fc barça #fc barcelona #fc barca #pablo gavi x y/n #pablo gavi x reader #pablo gavi icons #pablo gavi #pablo martín páez gavira #pablo gavira #gavira #gavi paez #gavi x reader #gavi imagine #pablogavixreaderfluff #pablogavixreadersmut

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bi-ss · 5 months

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~ Ties that bind ~

Bucky x reader- arranged marriage.

Warnings - non, I don't think..

(This is a little bit of part 1, so I made write more I may not, we'll see. I'm also going to give the reader and her parents a positive relationship. idk I think it suits the best

You always knew you were to be married off. Your mother was always transparent with you about that. She always told you that you may not like the man or woman, but love was always hard to find anyway. So one day, when you were 16, you typed up an agreement and gave it to your father about if you were married off, what you wanted, you do have your mother's stubbornness after all.

*knock knock*

"Come in," hearing your father grumble, you push the dark wooden doors which you are a lot heavier than your dad and his men made it seem. You stand in the doorway for a second before your dad gets up from behind his desk. He slowly walked round, motioning for you to come in and close the door. He pulled a comfy seat out a bit before sitting on his desk. You sat out looking up at him, handing him the typed papers in your hands. He looked at the title and gave it back to you.

"Read it to me, Ladybug." You smiled at the nickname he used and has used since you were a baby. "I see your mother as prepared you for this, and I see you listened for once," he joked, knowing you never liked working or school for that matter.

"I don't want to be a housewife, can't think of anything worse," you scoffed at your remark while your dad just laughed, still smiling down at you. "But I would prefer if you read it then get back to me as I told mother I'd help her cook.. it's burrito night!" He slowly nodded at you. Reading aloud wasn't something you liked doing. Taking the papers stapled together, you got up and started walking towards the doors, dreading the embarrassment of trying to open them again, but you didn't have to. Your dad was right behind you, holding it for you like you didn't just use all the strength to pry it just a little.

That's how you life's always been, your mother, a housewife. Your mother was the most beautiful and mature woman to probably ever exist, her long vibrant curly ginger hair, her pale soft skin loaded with freckle, her forest green eyes complemented everything about her even those rosy cheeks and lips. She adored your father as much or even more as he adored her. They do say opposites attract, fitting for your parents as your father, the breadwinner. Your father was a handsome and smart man, with dark chocolate hair which your mother loved putting into pigtails, his skin is covered with tattoos front to back, up and down, his toned and tan skin barely visible, his one good eye a smokie light grey colour, is other eye was sew shut while being littered with scars. Your dad has become more careful and gentle when your mother is pregnant. It wasn't hard to see that his men liked this change to, according to your mother. An example is when the twins joined, Wanda and Pietro maximoff joined, and they were put through uni with help from the family in case they wanted an out, making sure they had a choice. They stayed by the family's side.

Now, 6 years later, you're sitting in your fathers office it hasn't changed a bit, you can't say the same about them, he was sitting on the worn-out leather chair with your mother behind him, their hair turning grey and with smile line proudly on display. You sitting at the side of the desk, not next to your dad and not next to Mrs and Mr Barnes, with their irritated son, James Barnes. The meeting was already off to a bad start when his girlfriend Sharon demanding to attend, but met with your dad saying he didn't have business with her and if that's know they did things, he'll call it off. You listened in on the conversation when your dad wasn't there, and to sum it up, Mr Barnes threatened, saying he'll disown his son and give it all to Rebecca. She's now at the bottom of the stairs being watched secretly by maids, workers, and guards. The elderly guest were very shocked at the fact they didn't even know you were there when they were giving the to toddler a reality check, which made both your parents proud and all 4 laugh about it. Before the definition of cantankerous, egocentric, and many more adjectives, you couldn't ever walk in.

. . . . .To be continued. . . .

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fuuuuyo · 1 month

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continuing ;

‘ FOUR WORDS ’ pt. 2

kuroo tetsurō x fem!reader, just fluff :>, this part is a little cheesy ngl ㅠㅠ (tbh i dont know why i continued this)

link to pt. 1

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

as one of kuroo’s childhood friends, it was a privilege to watch him grow. who knew that the boy that helped you on the swings would be the captain of nekoma high school volleyball club. you still remembered all the gifts he gave you, and even all the birthday cards he handed to you was in the drawer of your bedside table. you could never forget those childish memories you’ve had with him and all the ups and downs that you’ve had. the past 12 years spent with him are priceless. you’d give up anything for it. you were far more than grateful to have the privilege of him growing up alongside you. he’s grown to become very athletic and smart, and not to mention, a very attractive man in your eyes. although, his hair never changed. it had always been the same.

spending time with kuroo was what brought you most joy, but would also set your heart blazing with fire. you’ve developed a sense of romantic feelings towards him and you couldn’t help it. you’d often ponder and think about those four words he said as a child, wondering if it wouldn’t just be an imagination, but would be something that would come true.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

watching kuroo play volleyball reminded you of all the times you’ve spent together over the years. as you cheered him enthusiasticly from the sidelines, memories of your childhood slowly flooded back. the cats came out on top in the end, and you couldn’t be more proud of him and his team.

“ congratulations on your victory! ” you squealed to the team with happiness and excitement. you were truly so proud of them, especially kuroo, your best friend. you helped them pack up, and soon after went to walk home with kuroo since you’d always been close neighbors too.

“ kuroo, this is for you ! i figured that you might have gotten a little hungry after the match so i made you some sushi! ”

“ thanks a lot, [name]! it looks really good! do you want to stop by at the park for a bit for me to eat this? ” he asked, receiving a repetitive nod from you afterwards.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

later on the day, the both of you plopped on the bench on the park. it wasn’t too dark yet, so you had some time to stall with kuroo at the park. you couldn’t help but reflect on how much had changed since the early days, and how much had stayed the same.

“ so how’s my sushi? ” you competively asked.

“ pretty good, but i suppose the ones i make are still better.” he replied with a devilish grin displayed on his face. you put so much effort into those sushi, only to find out that he still makes better ones.

“ if you really think so, let me have my sushi back! ” you said as you slid over the bench to him as you tried to snatch away the bright yellow container filled with the sushi you gave him.

“ hey, i was still hungry- ”

“ are you really that hungry? or are you just inlove with the flavors of my sushi? ” you snickered, coming a little bit closer to him, flustering him a bit. you weren’t going to back down one bit.

a smirk appeared on his face and he said, “ you’re pretty close to me aren’t you, [name]? ” you thought you had control, but it seemed like it was flipped around now.

“ oh sorry, i didn’t realize.” you replied, not really sorry.

“ you think i care? i wouldn’t mind it if you came even closer. ” he said with a confident smug, his ego being boosted into a high level. he carefully took the yellow container from your hands and placed down on the other side of the bench, having his other hand placed on your waist, when you blurted out a gasp, cheeks flushed.

“ what’s up? scared of me, kitty? ”

“ as if i’d be scared of you. ” you replied with a scoff following afterwards.

“ come closer then. ” he said as his hand went up to your hips, pulling you close as he crashed his lips into yours, as he captivated you into a lovingly aggressive kiss. after a moment, out of breath, you pulled away.

“ god i really have fallen inlove with you, [name]. be my girl? ”

“ yes of course. ” you gleefully replied. as you left the park, you suddenly caught up with the memories of you and kuroo running around as a child. everything was so fun and playful, but you never knew that this day would ever come. as you both left the park, you couldn’t help but think about how much the two of you had grown since your childhood.

“ let’s see what the future holds for us, yeah kitten? ” he said as he trailed off after dropping you home.

#kuroo tetsuro #kuroo tetsuro x you #kuroo tetsuro x reader #kuroo x reader #kuroo tetsuro imagine #kuroo tetsuro fluff #haikyuu x you #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu imagines

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naomihatake · 7 months

Text

In search of freedom (Ch. 3)

3. A change of heart

Chapter 2 ; Chapter 3 ; Chapter 4

⠀⠀⠀⠀She's been searching for freedom her entire life and everytime she thought it was laying right in front of her eyes, she was mistaken. She was running around the East Blue, seeking herself and her dreams, meeting people she never forgot. No matter how much she traveled, she could only catch a glimpse of peace before realizing everything would crumble at her feet.

⠀⠀⠀⠀Maybe it was destiny that brought her on that ship with three strangers — foolishly, that's what she tried to believe when the moon shined beautifully and hope settled in her chest, squeezed by the same ribcage where feelings were blooming.

Pairing: female!reader x OPLA Zoro Roronoa.

Warnings for this chapter: anxiety, tarot readings, canon typical violence, tension, mutual pining

Word count: 8k (um? It wasn't supposed to be that long, but I'm not unsatisfied at all)

Theme song: “Hoist the colors” by Bobby bass (click on the link)

A/N: I tried my best to add Zoro's perspective in this part. I don't know if I did a good job or not, but I'm experimenting with writing specific characters and personalities. I think I understand him a tad bit more than I did last time — in case you haven't noticed, I love psychoanalyzing my favorite characters and Zoro is one of them. The last chapter felt quick paced because of the fight, but this one is slow paced; I wanted to stretch the tension that way.

The reader is referred to as "Witch" because I have no intentions of using "Y/N".

I'm open for comments and opinions <3

"He has quite the bounty on his head," the witch commented as she looked at Buggy's wanted poster.

Zoro's fingers gripped tighter at the hilt of his white sword after he huffed.

"I should've killed him."

"And how were you supposed to be paid for it when you're a wanted man yourself?" Luffy laughed at him.

Another huff left the swordsman's lips and he averted his eyes with a scowl.

"I guess that's also right."

He tore the poster from the wall and squeezed it in his fingers, the paper getting destroyed right in front of his eyes.

"Stupid clown," he muttered.

A light chuckle got his attention; the witch who stood with her arms crossed right next to him didn't seem lively at all. Ever since they stepped on land in the Syrup Village, color drained from her face and she was constantly fidgeting and playing with her fingers. It was weird; the swordsman didn't spend much time with the other three, but they weren't impossible to read.

She didn't seem the type to be so awfully quiet. She had smart comments sitting on the tip of her tongue and it wasn't necessarily hard to make her smile; if anything, Luffy's smile was so contagious and it influenced her greatly, Zoro observed. The straw hat wasn't the only one in that situation — each one of them was. The witch somehow knew what to say and how to treat them, how to approach a topic.

Maybe that's why she was called a witch. For the life of it, Zoro didn't like to read between the lines and his usual blunt personality drew people away because they misinterpreted it as rudeness. Did he care? Not really. So why did he suddenly think too much about it? Why was he thinking of ways to get a word out of her mouth?

The woman his eyes were fixated on didn't hear Nami when she appeared, coming back to earth only after Luffy nudged her side with his elbow.

"Let's go find a ship."

She only nodded and followed along, burying one hand in the pocket of her pants. He saw when she bought a pocket knife from a stand and hid it. Zoro guessed her fingers were always curled around the knife for safety reasons, even if her fear seemed irrelevant — nothing was suspicious in that village.

They were the only suspicious people around there. A navigator who is a thief, a green-haired tall man with three swords attached to his hip, a pirate who wore a straw hat and a beautiful witch.

Beautiful, indeed, even if that word alone didn't do the woman enough justice. Not only the way she looked was pretty, but the way she carried herself, how stable she was on her feet, the sparkle in her eyes, the taunting mischief of her gentle smile.

A smile that has been gone for half of a day, now replaced by anxiety. Even a blind man could see the unsettling feeling she was carrying.

Zoro didn't realize when he took the opportunity of looking at her hair bouncing with each step after he chose to walk behind them all. He shook his head and shoved his hands into the pockets of his pants, moving his gaze away. His mind shouldn't be wandering on useless things.

Nami stopped in her tracks once they reached the dock.

"We don't need something flashy, we have to sneak it out of here without anyone noticing."

"You mean we're gonna steal a ship?" Luffy furrowed his eyebrows.

"Yes?" the navigator frowned. "Wasn't that obvious already? How else are we gonna get a ship?"

"We can ask for one!" he beamed.

"So you think that just talking with someone would bring us a ship?"

The witch only sighed and shook her head at the other two's argument.

"Fine," Nami gave in after looking for too long at Luffy's puppy eyes. "But if it doesn't work, we do it my way."

"Deal."

Instantly, he walked away in search of a ship.

"So, what's the actual plan?" Zoro asked nonchalantly.

"You two look around and see how lax the security is around here. I'm gonna look for a ship and if we have enough luck, we will bribe Luffy into stealing one."

"I wish you luck," the swordsman smirked.

That's how they split up, Nami heading in a different direction while the witch walked straight up ahead with one hand still in her pocket. He approached her after a few long steps, merely looking at her from the corner of his eyes.

"If you keep walking around so stiff, people will guess we have something to hide."

"The only thing I have to hide is a pocket knife. On the other hand, you have three swords and no one looked at you suspiciously yet."

Finally, she said full phrases. However, there was no change in her expressionless face.

"What's up?" he fully turned his head towards her.

"Hm?"

Those beautiful eyes looked up at him curiously.

"Is someone suspicious?" he asked.

"No, just the air."

Once again, she turned her face away before he was able to read what she was hiding. It didn't seem like something big or dangerous, but she was definitely acting shady.

On top of it all, she wasn't exactly paying attention to her surroundings, since she didn't notice the two marines walking around the corner. Zoro wrapped an arm around her middle and placed a palm over her mouth, shoving the both of them between two buildings.

Her fingers grasped at his wrist and if she wouldn't have reminded herself to let go of the knife, she could've cut him.

"You could've just warned me," she whispered to him after she moved his hand away.

They both noticed their situation way too late. Her back was pressed against his chest and his arm was holding her securely next to him. His fingers burned her skin even through the large shirt she was wearing. The air got knocked out of her lungs and for a moment, she remembered the second reason for her unsteady feelings — him. The pirate hunter she didn't like thinking of because it was better that way.

When Zoro noticed the marines went away, he let go of her, even if too slowly. He let his suspicions get the best of him.

"What are you hiding?"

The witch — who just grabbed at his arm to move it away — was in that moment frozen on the spot.

"Nothing important."

From behind her, he couldn't see the way she frowned.

"You're like a walking ball of anxiety."

"I told you, it's just a shift in the air. Nothing important," she gritted her teeth, getting irritated.

Why was she distant? Did she think he wouldn't believe in her intuition? — that's what she'd probably call it.

She moved away after what felt like years, but her shoulders relaxed. It seemed like she figured out God-knows-what.

"I don't like the energy. It feels like I'm gonna die soon."

"Did you see a black cat?"

"No, I feel something crawling up my throat."

She resumed her walking and he kept up with her for the second time that day.

"Everything seems fine. I saw only those two marines and they were awfully relaxed," Zoro changed the topic.

"Then, just like Nami guessed, the security isn't exactly top class," the witch responded.

They walked around in silence, spotting Luffy on a ship with a goat figurehead. The swordsman could see the happiness bouncing around the straw hat who just called out at them.

"Guys! I found it!"

"Did you think for more than two seconds before choosing it?" the witch arched her eyebrow, amused.

"Actually, one glance was enough to know this was the perfect ship for us."

"Why am I not surprised you were right?" Nami sighed.

"He will sell it to us," Luffy pointed at a young man who walked behind him.

"Um, actually, this is not for sale," he tries to smile, rubbing at the back of his neck in embarrassment.

His golden-brown skin glistened in the early sun rays, which most probably meant he was working on something.

"And I'm not a salesman," he added. "But my friend owns this ship."

•┈┈┈•┈┈┈•┈┈┈

They found out his name was Usopp and the friend he was talking about was a girl who was celebrating her coming of age on that day. Kaya not only invited them to dinner, but insisted they could sleep over, considering they were “Usopp's friends”. The witch was still getting used to being called a friend or comrade, since she doesn't remember the last time that word was met with serious intentions.

The girl's mansion was… big. It was like a labyrinth and even if Zoro was bad at directions, she thought it started to rub off on her the moment she walked towards the dressing room after taking a bath. The lights weren't particularly bright and the sun was setting by that time. The curtains were tied together, leaving space for the warm golden lights to bathe the hallways.

Mystery clung to each artifact and painting. It was beautiful, yes, but there was a certain aura of that place that unsettled her.

Not to mention the staff — she never thought it would come a day when she'd say “these people are weird”. For the past two years she's been traveling alone around the Blue East and she met dozens of people, one more intriguing than the other. However, that butler was suspicious. She wanted to believe he was just a father figure for Kaya and he was protective of her, but she couldn't.

From the moment when she entered the dressing room — she's surprised she even found it —, she decided to answer some questions of her own.

She shuffled her tarot cards in her hands, meticulously arranging each card that fell, putting them in order. It was confusing her — it was the second time she does the same thing, with the same question in mind, and she received the same ambiguous answer. Why did the cards have to be particularly hard to guess on that day?

She ran her fingers through her hair and ruffled it, accidentally tugging harshly enough to make her frown deepen, but she held back a hiss. Maybe some pain would help her focus, instead of letting her mind waver. Luffy, who sat cross legged on the carpet, just like her, was analyzing her reactions because he had no clue what she was doing.

"What do you see?" he asked in a hushed voice.

"Why are you whispering?" Zoro asked.

The swordsman hasn't moved since he came into the dressing room and sat on a comfortable chair. He flexed his arms when he crossed them over his chest and threw one or two glances at the swords leaning against the armrest.

"I don't know," Luffy whispered again, snapping his head towards him.

She didn't pay attention to them at all. She had to admit that she felt better than an hour ago, before having the opportunity to take a bath, the reason why she was wearing a dressing gown only. It was so soft and the material felt perfect against her flushed skin, her collarbones exposed entirely.

She was completely unaware of the gaze locked on her. The woman had no clue a specific swordsman was thinking more than he usually does. There was an inner battle he couldn't fight by using his three swords style. He occupied himself by focusing on the material things; the carpet was soft.

Just as soft as her body when he glued her back to his chest to avoid those marines.

"What do you think?" Nami smiled proudly after she appeared from behind the room divider.

"You look like Nami," Luffy shrugged.

The witch chuckled at the response. She didn't smile once since she entered that mansion, but she couldn't help her reaction. Instead, she raised her head to the orange-haired woman whose shoulders fell at the answer she received.

After a few seconds of thinking, the witch decided to give her a real opinion:

"It compliments your body, but it isn't necessarily flattering — maybe you can find a few other options?"

Nami nodded, moving around to search for something else.

"I kind of feel bad for Kaya… she must feel lonely in such a big house," Luffy commented.

The witch decided to avoid the conversation, her eyes stuck once again on the few cards splayed over the carpet. She took in a deep breath and then sighed. It made sense, but it didn't feel like a complete answer. She decided to turn the rest of the deck upside down and take the card on the top.

"Dammit," she cussed out.

It confused her even more, so she just put the card back in the deck.

After a minute of spacing out, she managed to focus on the other three in the room.

"Rich people don't feel emotions the same way we do," Nami said flatly.

"She seems kind, though," the witch hesitated as the words left her lips.

"That's a big word," Nami probably rolled her eyes, considering her tone.

"Probably. She seems better than the butler, by the way."

"Have you guys seen him before?" Zoro asked, shifting in his seat.

Immediately, the witch moved her head towards him. He answered a question she didn't even ask and her fears felt validated for a brief second. So he also found that man suspicious.

"No, but I don't like him at all," the witch responded firmly.

"How come you can talk so easily about people you just met? No offense."

Nami was still looking around for a dress when she talked.

"It's not that I'm being judgmental — I can't assume what those people did or not. However, tell me, what about the staff makes you go 'oh, yes, they're good people'?"

"Good point," she pulled her lips together in a straight line. "They're weird."

The shuffling through clothes stopped, which meant Nami found something. Except, it wasn't for her, but for the swordsman who caught the caramel silky shirt that was thrown into his lap.

The witch let out another long exhale and closed her eyes. She hoped she could ground herself in a way or another, despite the unhelpful air surrounding the entire house. It was suffocating and it felt as if there was a heavy press on the crown of her chest, making it hard to breathe.

Seconds passed and the only thing she found in the depths of her thoughts was doubt and uncertainty. Nothing felt right, but she couldn't point out exactly what gave off that kind of aura. Slowing down her breathing didn't help either.

By the time she gave up and huffed, Nami and Luffy were out of the room. She saw the glimpse of a red silky dress pooling around someone's legs. Said person was Nami, surely.

A dress. Maybe it would be easier to hide a knife in her thigh holster.

"You're staring at these cards like you're gonna find out something, but I doubt you found anything," Zoro got her attention.

Once again, her fingers gripped at the strands of hair. Putting her confusion into words left a lump in her throat.

"I don't know what's going on and it's annoying. I don't have time for life lessons."

"Going on with what?"

"This entire mansion, maybe?" she looked at him.

His gaze made her skin tingle and she didn't know if she welcomed that foreign sensation or not. Everytime he talked, he managed to get her out of her thoughts, and she was both grateful and angry about it. For some reason, his stoic personality was safe in that maze.

"The butler is hiding something, that I know for sure," she whispered this time. "I never saw him, but something doesn't feel right at all. Protecting Kaya? It sounds like bullshit to me, Zoro."

She was stubborn about the opinion she has of that man and maybe it was wrong, but did she really care?

The swordsman didn't expect the sound of his name rolling off her tongue to stir something inside of him. It almost stung, her voice craving words in languages he's never spoken on his ribs. He paid attention, even if on a normal day he wouldn't listen to superstitions and the words of a probably insane witch.

Except it sounded like she was the most sane of them all.

"It probably won't make sense for you, but he's lying about something. He's not just a butler," she continued after glancing back at the cards. "He's fooling everyone and he's doing it well. This isn't what I'm actually concerned about — there's another lie I can't point out. The cards don't help. It feels like I'm being deceived, but for a good reason."

"By who?"

"I don't know. Or maybe I just want to avoid the answer."

She always hated her suspicious nature, the way her trust could be gained only by a few, and all of these people have been gone for years. She shouldn't be like that, it would be better if she'd have some faith in the people around her, if she'd allow herself to believe in them and their words. The ability to trust was a desire — something she wanted, but didn't have.

Zoro's body tensed and his frown deepened when he realized she was suspicious about one of them. At the same time, her attitude didn't match up because she seemed to despise her own suspicions.

Why was he so concerned about her? Yeah, right, he has no clue. Amazing. Perfect.

"I hate this," she muttered under her breath.

The witch put all of her cards in the deck and threw it on a chair after she stood up. Her eyes fell on the variety of clothes and she wondered what the fuck she was doing there in the first place.

Why was she there? She didn't promise to stay with Luffy. She had the opportunity to remain in Syrup Village for a while and then leave, just like every time. What was she doing in that mansion, looking at too many clothes hung in a huge room?

"Aren't you also gonna change?" she said without turning towards him.

"Do you even trust us?"

The question had the same effect as the tight embrace she was pulled into a few hours ago. Her breath hitched and she hesitated, fingers clutching at the material of her dressing gown.

The truth was other than what she thought of this entire time; yes. Yes, she did, and that was the most dangerous situation of them all.

"I wish I didn't," she whispered.

It was inexplicable, the faith she had in humanity after meeting Luffy. She would clutch at her heart and talk about how humans don't deserve her trust, she would talk for hours about how mischievous people are, that they adore taking advantage of others.

So it was normal to despise that feeling of longing, the desire to get attached to people, the need for a connection. It was normal to fear a bad ending and it was even worse that she thought such a thing couldn't happen anymore.

That was why the tarot cards confused her. They told a story different from the one her soul knew. What betrayal? What secret? Who was in pain they couldn't express? And why did she get the feeling that it wasn't exactly betrayal?

Her answer probably satisfied Zoro, since he got up from the chair and took a black suit he noticed minutes ago. He didn't say a word, but his shoulders were relaxed again.

•┈┈┈•┈┈┈•┈┈┈

The witch was the last one to arrive downstairs, in a room that seemed like a living. She found it uncomfortable to wear a dress in a house filled with strange people, since it held her speed back and it wouldn't be exactly easy to defend herself. She opted for a dress she could move in, only squeezing her waist and chest, fluttering around her knees. It was long enough to hide a knife in her thigh holster. Getting discovered wasn't on her to-do list, but she had to ensure her own safety.

While she changed, her mind wandered… would any of them help if something happened? Her guess was that yes, they'd jump into action.

Without noticing, after she walked down the stairs, she gravitated close to the swordsman. She was with her back at one of her comrades, never out in the open, sharp eyes scanning each corner of the room. The table in the middle was strong, she figured out after she tapped her nail over the surface. If there were guns involved, she could use it as a shield.

"You should try these!" Luffy spoke with his mouth full of cookies as he looked towards her and Zoro.

"I have everything I need right here," the green-haired man responded with a smirk.

There was a glass of cocktail in between his fingers and he took a long gulp, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down. Only now, the witch took her time to gaze at the expense of his shoulders, the suit fitting him perfectly. Considering how casual he dresses, it was surprising to see that kind of formal attire hugging his body so deliciously. The usual cockiness of his smirk was still present, just like the hand shoved into the pocket of his black suit pants.

Roronoa Zoro was more attractive than she liked to admit. His sharp jawline and the smallest bump at the base of his nose, the tall stature, those deep brown eyes sparkling in the light of a candelabra — damn, he looked like he'd been sculpted by the gods, despite the lack of belief he had in such almighty beings. The air was tight when she inhaled and she almost felt bad for ogling at him — almost, because the first time she met him, she was busy sweeping the floor with some Marines.

A feeling of control and steadiness oozed out of him, pulling her closer like a spell. For the briefest moment, her shoulders relaxed at the reminder that she's not alone there, that there are three other people she can put an ounce of trust in. That was the least she could do at that time.

With her arms crossed loosely over her stomach, the witch watched the interaction between Nami and a businessman — he looked and acted exactly like one, but lacked the mischief.

She missed the glance the swordsman threw at her, a look that lasted for too long to be friendly, but short enough to miss it. No, he thought to himself before taking another gulp of the liquor in his glass. He doesn't have time to indulge into such things.

The witch sighed at her own observations; she should unwind for a little while. She picked another glass of cocktail that was on the table and sipped, furrowing her eyebrows.

"It's sweet," she mumbled, surprised after licking her lips.

"Don't confuse sweetness for how strong it is," Zoro chuckled.

That simple sound made her heart skip a beat or two, bringing an uncomfortable sensation in the pitch of her stomach.

"Beginner's mistake, I suppose," she shrugged.

Too bad she wasn't exactly a beginner.

The talkative Usopp and Luffy stopped, which caught her attention; these two were the loudest people she's ever met in her entire life. Kaya was walking down the stairs, her slim arms curled around one of Klahadore's — the butler.

Only now, the witch took her time and looked at her. The pastel pink dress drained the life out of that girl, as if her pale skin didn't do that enough. Her cheeks were sunk and her smile seemed fragile like glass. She still remembers the cough that ripped through Kaya's lungs like an old knife.

Usopp looked at her as if he saw his dream before his eyes. He was love-struck.

The witch smiled at the realization. A puzzle so easy to solve.

The only thing Luffy loved as much as his dream and crewmates was food. Behind the door where the stairs ended, there was a big table filled with too many plates to count and a variety of dishes. His eyes sparkled as if there was gold.

A simple minded person, indeed, and maybe that was for the best.

She couldn't rest. She was on high alert, her heart beating faster each time her eyes glanced over at the butler. The fork in between her fingers stabbed the meat in her plate once in a while, but the knot in her stomach was difficult to undo. The only reason why she managed to remain steady was the swordsman who sat to her left and — by some powers bestowed by the gods — felt steady and safe. His presence pulled her back to reality, stealing her attention. The witch has never been more glad not to be alone.

"We wanted to talk with you about a ship," Luffy said with a big smile on his face.

"Right," Kaya smiled back, letting her fork down. "Usopp told me you are sailors."

"We aren't sailors, we are pirates."

Damn it, Luffy!

The witch gulped, squeezing her eyes shut at their captain's excitement. This was about to end very badly.

•┈┈┈•┈┈┈•┈┈┈

The dinner ended abruptly. Kaya had a coughing fit and she wasn't feeling well, meanwhile, the butler blamed it on Luffy, who got on the table and had an entire speech. They weren't welcome there anymore and were supposed to leave at the first hour in the morning.

The witch found each opportunity not to be alone, aware it wouldn't be in her advantage in case something happened. When she saw Nami head back to their guest room, the witch followed her. She needed to change out of that dress into something she could run and fight in, like her usual clothes.

After locking the door behind her, she looked at Nami who was already slipping her arms out of the sleeves of that beautiful red dress.

"I didn't get to tell you that you look stunning in that, by the way. Definitely the best choice," the witch mumbled as she averted her eyes to offer some privacy.

"Not really the moment to talk about dress up, is it?"

"I know, but some compliments wouldn't hurt anyone, right?"

Wrong, apparently, since Nami stilled in her tracks. The witch decided to sit in silence for a while, while she changed from the dress as well, pulling on a plain t-shirt and some comfortable jeans she tucked into her boots.

The woman was aware of Nami who was moving behind her, now holding a pillowcase in between her fingers. It was clear she tried to move fast and leave the room before she could be noticed.

"Wanna be petty towards that rude butler?"

"It's not like anyone would notice. She's filthy rich," Nami mumbled through gritted teeth, disappointed about being caught. "Do you have eyes at the back of your head, by any chance?"

"Nope," the witch accentuated the p sound. "Just associating the rustling with the source."

"Did you eat some kind of sensory devil fruit?"

"Got born with it," the woman joked lightly.

Only then, she turned towards Nami, who stood tall, head tilted towards her. The witch was convinced about the suspicion she had while doing that tarot reading, but this time there wasn't a turmoil in her chest. The thunderstorm stopped, despite the clouds still covering the sky of her mind.

"Be careful roaming around with a pillowcase in your hand. We'll get in trouble if anyone catches us, especially the staff. They're creepy as hell."

"The girl hissed at me," Nami scoffed.

"Gods," the witch placed her hand on her forehead and shook her head. "Do you have any guesses about where the others might be?"

"Zoro drank like two bottles of alcohol, so I'll suppose he's searching for more."

The witch smiled softly at the response, despite the fact that she missed the undertone of Nami's answer.

"Don't tell me you were curious about Luffy or, worse, Usopp."

"Hm?"

An intelligent retort. The witch gulped down and looked away, biting at the inside of her cheek.

"I mean, Luffy gets himself in trouble all the time, it's not hard to find him."

"Are you acting stupid with me?"

Nami was grinning like the devil itself. Dammit, did she really have to be so observant?

"I'm pretty aware I'm smart, actually, so I don't get where this comes from," the witch whispered.

There was a hue pink covering her cheeks and she was fidgeting with her fingers behind her back, doing all of these gestures unconsciously. She felt like an idiot at that moment, she had to admit.

Then, as if lightning struck her, she widened her eyes for a brief second. She didn't even know why she was there, in that mansion, surrounded by strangers she wanted to put her trust into.

"What are you thinking of?" Nami asked.

"None of us promised to become a crew," she shook her head. "It doesn't matter."

The navigator narrowed her eyes at the witch whose shoulders fell, the shyness she felt earlier deflating.

"It looks like it matters to you, though."

"That's exactly why I'm saying it," she smiled sourly. "Gotta make myself believe otherwise."

Silence stretched between the two of them. Two women who had stories and feelings to hide knew when to stop from asking questions, even if it would end up bloody later. It was clear both of them wanted to avoid sensitive subjects, even if the witch barely noticed when Nami started being the interrogator.

"Be careful, Nami," the witch smiled at her sincerely. "Usopp may be good at bluffing, but I'm better at playing the innocent. If you need someone to gaslight the shit out of the butler, just tell me."

I know what you do is wrong, but I believe you'll make a wise decision by the end of this all. I believe in your reasoning and I hope you can put your trust in me as well.

"Noted," and with that, the navigator left the room.

The witch almost got lost in that labyrinth again. She wanted to go to the kitchen, place where Luffy most probably was, but maybe she walked down a bit too many stairs and headed to the wrong side of the mansion.

She saw a tall figure in the dark basement where barrels full of wine were arranged with utmost care. She furrowed her eyebrows when she saw Klahadore standing in the way, making one step back. Face to face with him was Zoro, who was ready to draw his sword out of its scabbard, but he quickly got hit in the back of his head by someone.

The witch's eyes widened, but she received the same treatment by someone who managed to sneak behind her back.

•┈┈┈•┈┈┈•┈┈┈

Her head ached, sending daggers all the way to her forehead. The witch let out a guttural groan and her hand flew to her nape, caressing the sore spot.

When her eyes opened, she was greeted by the dead body of Merry, the business man she noticed at the dinner. She flinched, scrambling to her feet, which wasn't an intelligent idea. Her vision blurred black and she felt dizzy, suddenly unsteady. If not for Zoro's grip on her arms, she would've fallen ungraciously on her butt.

"What the heck?" she mumbled.

After a few seconds that felt a bit too long, she couldn't understand exactly why it was so cold in that place. Her chin tilted back so she could look up at the night sky.

They were at the bottom of a well.

"We have to get out," Zoro spoke in a gruff voice.

He sighed heavily and let go of the witch, while she looked at him with the face of are you fucking serious?

"How?" she spoke without thinking.

After a failed attempt to escape by using a long rope with a big hook attached to it, she tried using her short knives to stick the blades in between the rocks; it didn't work either.

There was only one option left and she was speechless.

Her heart sank when she watched Zoro grip at the rocks. He was strong, yes, definitely stronger than her on the physical side, but what if he couldn't climb up? What if he would fall?

Then I'd catch him. We either die here together or we get out together.

Her mind was set. She watched him carefully, gulping when she watched him struggle. His weight might do some damage if she dared to be reckless enough to catch him, but he was the only one who could climb those rocks. If she would've tried, she'd surely fall.

Just like she supposed, his fingers didn't grip well enough at one of the rocks and his feet slipped. He lost his equilibrium and wasn't fast enough to clutch onto another rock or stabilize his foot in time, and he fell back.

Maybe that witch was more reckless than anyone would've guessed. On top of it, she was selfless enough to believe that if he managed to get out and get help, it didn't matter what happened later, so she tried her best to mitigate the impact.

She was right — air got knocked out of her lungs when his body fell on top of hers and she groaned, but at least he didn't break some ribs. Her arms were wrapped around his waist and her fingers clutched at his shirt. Pain traveled through her body quickly and didn't disappear, but the adrenaline paid off.

"Are you alright?" she asked him in a hurry.

"You're insane," Zoro concluded, exasperated.

His back was glued to her chest and he tilted his head to the side to look at her. Maybe, for once, he was right about her.

"I'd rather break one of my ribs. You're the only one who can get us out," she argued with a frown between her eyebrows.

The witch looked away and blinked. She didn't want to focus on how hot the air felt, despite the bone chilling cold in that tight space. The butterflies in her stomach could be ignored if she gathered enough self control in time.

However, Zoro didn't move. He seemed troubled, completely out of it as he continued to look up at the night sky with a scowl on his face. His entire body was tense and he was deep down in his thoughts, especially since he didn't move a finger since he disagreed with her idea of "helping".

As if struck by lightning, he got back up, following the same steps from earlier.

"Be careful."

He stopped in his tracks right after his fingers gripped at some rocks.

"Move away if I fall again."

"I won't move and you won't fall."

It pushed him at the edge, mingling with the memories flowing through his mind about his long lost friend, about the girl whose strength he admired so greatly it made him move again. For a brief second, he thought of himself as a coward for overthinking the process. He either got out alive and managed to get her out as well, or they were both doomed — there was no in between.

Steadily, a tad bit slower than before, he climbed up the wall. His body ached at the effort when he was more than half way through and he would stop for a few seconds before making another move, clutching at another rock that would get him higher.

Despite being so low, several meters under the ground, her trust in him didn't waver. Her heart squeezed with worry, but she wanted to follow her instinct and how much she believed in him, even if it was unusual. Maybe it was because of his stubbornness, since if he was set on something, there was no way of stopping him.

He lost his equilibrium for a fraction of a second. Her breath hitched, eyes widening, his name stopping on the tip of her tongue.

His foot slipped and some dust fell to the bottom of the well, next to her. She breathed out in relief when he was quick enough to grip at another rock.

The witch didn't doubt him one bit when he finally got out of the well. He kept the rope he found in the well at his waist while he climbed up, so he could help her get out too.

From up there, Zoro held tightly onto the rope, just as tightly as she did, even if her fingers hurt and she didn't exactly trust her body to be strong enough. She gripped at the cord and climbed the stone wall, gritting her teeth whenever it seemed like she might fall.

Breathe in, breathe out. Breathe in, breathe out. Repeat.

It was a slow process, which was worrisome from her perspective. She advanced, but the longer she struggled, it felt endless.

For the record, she believed in Zoro more than she believed in herself — she didn't have low self-esteem either.

"Look up," he reminded her firmly.

He prompted his feet into the ground and held tightly, waiting for her.

"Trying," she mumbled to herself.

Slowly, she got closer and closer to the exit. Zoro bent his torso and curled his fingers around her forearm, managing to help her out.

"Fuck," she cursed.

Her breath was labored and she was sweating heavily, a droplet falling from her temple to her jaw and down her neck. She let herself on the grass, her arm still in his hand.

"I owe you my life," she breathlessly mumbled.

Unconsciously, her fingers were clutching onto his arm for support, even if her knees trembled from the tumult she went through.

"We have time for that later," he brushed it off. "We have to find the others."

"That butler isn't new to killing people who stand in his way. We better hurry before he chops us off."

"His name is Kuro. He was the captain of the Black Cat Pirates and supposedly died three years ago, when Axe-Hand Morgan killed him — the Marine Captain we encountered back in Shell Town."

The swordsman kept his grip firm on her, carefully bringing her back to her feet while he talked.

"I saw his face on a wanted poster some time ago, but since he was presumed dead, no one cared anymore."

"He looked very much alive to me," the witch retorted.

"I was with Usopp when I went to get wine and he managed to escape from the butler. Maybe he went to search for help, even if I doubt any untrained person could harm these pirates. Luffy was in the kitchen, eating some weird blue food."

Zoro let go of her and walked in the opposite direction of the mansion and she looked at him confused.

"Oi, Zoro, the house is the other way—"

Then, when she looked at the path that went through the forest surrounding the mansion, she felt a pull towards it. She furrowed her eyebrows and continued staring.

"You go that way. Nami is surely still inside."

"You just said I went in the opposite direction, though?" Zoro arched his eyebrow at her.

"Usopp searched for help, but if we think about it, Kaya said he has a lot of stories to tell. He's bluffing a lot, even if with no bad intentions. Maybe he found someone — if there's no sign of life on the path, come back."

"And you?"

"I'll find Nami and Kaya somehow."

Zoro didn't believe in superstitions and higher beings, but he trusted her instinct, so he headed the other way. The witch opened the door slowly, making no sounds. She slipped inside and looked around for an insane pirate who hisses — these two were creepy.

The young woman flinched when all the light suddenly disappeared and behind her, a heavy metal wall met the floor, stopping everyone from moving in or out of there. Fuck.

She gripped with both of her hands at the daggers she held at her hip, holding them securely. With slow steps, the witch made her way through the house. The big candelabrum hanging from the ceiling marked the way to enter and leave the house. To the left was the kitchen and to her right was the living room. The guest rooms and dormitories were upstairs. She still remembers which one was her room for the might and the bathroom.

If she didn't want to die there, she had to quickly figure that place out.

She heard one single step from the stairs and her attention shot up. Sham looked at her perplexed, but grinned widely.

"You were supposed to be dead, little mouse."

"Don't confound me with your food," the witch held the knives tighter.

Instantly, the woman jumped at her with a mop in her hands. The witch dodged the attack with a knife and the one that followed, bending her knees to avoid getting hit again. She tried to cut Sham's leg with her knife, but the maid was fast, jumping back in time.

Zoro, if you get lost on the way back, I'll wake up from the dead and kill you, she thought to herself.

"Captain Kuro will kill Kaya tonight and there's nothing you can do to stop him."

Sham's wooden mop clashed against the witch's dagger and avoided the knife which almost sunk into her shoulder. Sham attempted to make her fall by kicking her legs, but the witch made a light jump before she could fall.

It would draw attention to her and the cook might appear out of nowhere, but the witch sheathed one of the knives and pulled a pistol, aiming at the hissing woman.

"I'm too fast for your shitty guns, girl."

Yeah, sure. It was her time to grin at Sham.

Her eyes followed each of the maid's movements, moving her arm just in time to shoot her side. Sham was lucky enough to move out of the way, but the next bullet scarred her upper arm, another hiss leaving her lips.

"Fuck."

Aw, the kitty was angry.

The witch widened her eyes when she saw Sham pull a sword that seemed more suited for decor. She had to dodge the next attack, the blade almost touching her neck when she stopped it with her knife.

"Hey, Sham, do you need some help?"

The witch gulped at the new voice. It was the cook.

"I don't really think so."

The witch jumped back before her neck got cut, breathing heavily. She had to block other attacks while she attempted to find a weak spot, an opening to shoot and do it well.

The witch groaned when the blade left a deep and clean slice on her left upper arm. It stretched horizontally on the side. The shock almost paralyzed her and blood was quick to flow down her arm.

She tossed a knife through the air, the tip sinking straight into Sham's right arm.

A weight sound caught her attention and she turned her head towards the metal wall behind her that was slowly being lifted up by strong arms. Who the fuck could—

Oh, right. They had a bulky swordsman as part of the crew.

"Took you long enough," the witch muttered through gritted teeth.

Luffy bent down and smiled at her widely.

"Sorry for that."

"Keep apologies for later. Go after Kuro — he wants to kill Kaya."

Zoro followed the straw hat, straightening his back when he got inside. His eyes narrowed when he saw the crimson liquid covering the witch's arm, drawing his swords out. He could use the adrenaline pumping through his veins against the man who launched an attack at him.

"Go, Luffy. We'll keep these two occupied," he instructed.

The scent of blood filled the witch's nostrils. She aimed the gun at Butchy and the bullet flew right next to his ear, stopping him from hitting the swordsman. Sham was bold for taking the knife out of her arm and running towards the witch with the weapon in her hold. The witch stumbled and her back glued the floor, both her hands gripping harshly at Sham's arm, stopping the tip of the knife a few centimeters above her eyes.

"You little bitch," the pirate hissed at her.

The witch kicked the maid into the stomach with her knee, pushing her off of her. Luffy disappeared and the sound of blades clashing against each other filled the room.

Zoro used raw strength whenever he attacked Butchy, his swords almost cutting through the man with swift gestures of the wrist, elbows angled perfectly. He had more fighting experience than her and it showed, so she was more than just happy not to get sliced in half by the other two.

She cussed when she remembered she had only one revolver, the other one left in the room. She had three bullets left.

Her head got cloudy when she quickly got back to her feet, her breathing labored. She was tired and the only reason why she ignored her bleeding wound was the adrenaline.

This time, when Sham attacked with the mop, the witch only moved to the side and took advantage of the opportunity to cut with the knife through the flesh, the tip sinking deeper and deeper into the maid's stomach, until her body went limp.

The witch let Sham fall to the floor and stepped back. She felt her pulse pump through her head, slowing her down. She tried to focus on breathing evenly and eventually not passing out.

She heard a loud thump — the cook was down and Zoro sheathed his swords. He didn't break a sweat, or so it looked from her blurry perspective.

A sound rang through the air sharper than her daggers and it lit her on fire. The sound of her name being spoken with worry latched onto Zoro's voice.

He walked down two or three stairs at once, undoing the bandana from his head and wrapping it around her wound. She hissed when he knotted the material tightly in order to stop the bleeding.

"Thanks," she whispered, her body still tense.

•┈┈┈•┈┈┈•┈┈┈

"Don't mention it," Luffy smiled widely at Kaya. "We couldn't have let him hurt you or deceive people anymore."

If it wasn't for his rubber body, maybe they wouldn't have gotten out alive, but luck sided with them again.

"I could never thank you enough, but this is all I can do for you now."

The witch stared at the goat figurehead of the ship Luffy was enamored with. Kaya talked, but the words weren't registering in the woman's ears since a small little creature curled around one of her legs. The black cat mewled sweetly and begged for attention, a luxury it received quickly. The witch crouched down and petted the animal with a smile on her lips, brushing her fingers over the soft fur. The cat purred loudly, rolling on its back and pawing at the woman, greedy for affection.

"How's your wound?"

When she lifted her head, her eyes met Zoro's. One of his hands rested on the hilt of his Wado Ichimoji and the other was stuffed into the pocket of his jeans — she learned that was one of his most relaxed stances.

His bandana was still wrapped around her upper arm and the bleeding stopped long ago. She didn't get the chance to properly clean her arm or tend to the cut, but she felt content.

"I'll care for it on the ship after we set sail," she said in a soft voice.

Yes, that was the voice that made his heart hammer in his chest, he remembered. Finally, after a day filled with anxiety and panic, he could watch her shoulders relax, even if he wasn't exactly pleased with her lack of attention.

"Let's go!" Luffy shouted at them.

The witch stood up, wincing at the smallest movement of her arm, and that didn't go unnoticed by the swordsman.

She still avoided his question, he concluded. She said she'll care for the wound, not how it felt.

He tapped the hilt of his sword repeatedly and took a decision he didn't know if he'll regret later, following close behind her.

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