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morallyinept · 4 months

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A full transcribe of JAVI GUTIERREZ'S dialogue/lines from the film THE UNBEARABLE WEIGHT OF MASSIVE TALENT.

Includes full dialogue, and dialogue from any deleted/additional scenes available.

I've created this as a point of reference when writing for Pedro's characters, and I hope you find it useful. Even if you just want to read the dialogue. 🖤

FULL MASTERLIST OF PEDRO CHARACTERS DIALOGUE

☝🏻Dialogue has been fully transcribed by myself using reference to original scripts (if available), audio subtitles and using my own two ears. Therefore, mistakes can be made, however I have tried to be as fully accurate as I can. If you spot an obvious mistake, please kindly let me know. Where audio is not clear, I have marked with *inaudible* Scenes are separated for ease of reference.

FULL SCRIPT DIALOGUE:

Of course.

__________________

Mr Cage, I’m-

Javi.

I’m not sure I understand.

I think so.

I am Javi.

__________________

It was fine. Normal. No big deal.

He was incredible. But also like, super cool. He was taller than I imagined because they say actors are pretty short.

No.

He was… just right.

No, we didn’t bring it up. I didn't bring it up. It wasn’t the right time.

I don’t know, Gabriela, maybe I am living in a fantasy world. I mean, look who we are talking about here, the man is a legend!

__________________

Hi.

Huh?

Oh no, I’m sorry, I thought that… did you say? No, I… Oh, never mind. Yeah, so along those same lines, I was wondering, and it’s totally okay if you haven’t, but I was just wondering if you had a chance to read my screenplay?

Mr Cage, this is Ms. Gabriela Lucchesi. She runs all of our agricultural operations. And this is uh, my cousin. Lucas Gutierrez.

What? What do you mean “retired”?

__________________

Gabriela said you are really excited about the cliffs.

Oh, shit! Shit!

We must go now!

Faster!

The General!

The General! The General forbade me to see his daughter Matilda. But we defied his orders! And now, he wants to end my life. Can’t you see him?

Stanislavski? Is he part of the resistance?

I’m sorry, but you can’t quit acting! You can’t!

Whether you like it or not, you have a gift. And that gift brings light and joy to an increasingly dark and broken world!

And to turn your back on that gift, is to turn your back on the entire human race

I’m afraid so.

If we don’t go now, they will fucking kill us! These people smell blood and they come running. They are almost to the edge of the forest. I can hear them! And Matilda, she is waiting down the coast. We have to go now! We have to jump!

I’ve always loved her.

Oh, shit!

__________________

Are you two close?

How did you meet Olivia?

Beautiful film.

So what happened?

No. There's one woman, but uh… sometimes circumstances get in the way of love. And that's just the way it is. Anyway, Mr Cage, what is your favourite movie?

Number one, Face Off.

Number two, let me think… uh. The Cabinet of Dr Caligari.

__________________

It’s hard, like you said, 100 plus years of rich cinema.

Paddington 2.

I cried through the entire thing. It made me want to be a better man.

I fucking told you.

__________________

Truth, or dare, Nick?

Did you hate my screenplay? It’s okay if you did. I just need to know.

I sent it to your agent. He was supposed to give it to you.

Now? Like, right now?

I sent it.

No. Honestly I’m too nervous. My heart is beating so fast. I think I need to go to bed.

__________________

I just want to thank you all for coming tonight. It means more to me than you can know. And I would like to tell a story. A few years ago, my relationship with my father had deteriorated to the point where we were no longer speaking. He could be extremely difficult, my father. And to be fair, maybe I am not that much better. Haha. But when he got sick, I realised I didn’t want to lose him before we could repair our broken relationship.

But I didn’t know how. And then one day, about a week before he died… it happened. A miracle. I looked up and I saw on a tiny little hospital TV… Guarding Tess. We disagreed about literally everything, my father and I. Except for this movie. We both loved it. We would quote it back and forth. In a way, my father was Tess. The former first lady, and I was Doug Chesnic, the secret service agent charged with taking care of him. That movie brought us together. So, on behalf of my late father and myself, I want to thank you.

I bet you didn’t know Doug Chesnic could have such an impact on someone.

Well, thank you for your sacrifice. It was extraordinary.

So, does that mean you want to be in it?

I say, yes. Yes.

__________________

Mr Cage.

Nick. I realised that if we are going to create a work of art, we can’t just sit and stare at a screen. We have to open our minds to the infinite possibilities of what the cosmos has to offer.

Divine inspiration. LSD.

So, I was thinking that maybe our movie would be character-driven.

Right. Or like big explosions.

And work on multiple levels.

And maybe it's just the drugs talking, but what if we had, like a big drug scene?

Fuck, man (In Spanish)

It’s going to be so fucking good! But like, what's it about?

__________________

In terms of genre, I-I like comedies. But not when it’s just two people sitting around, talking.

Oh.

Nick. Listen. You know what I was thinking? Maybe we could have, like a paranoid, thriller-y angle.

Right. Right. Wait, have they been watching us?

Fuck! Did you see that? They just looked over at us.

No, no. Maybe it was just a coincidence. I will look again. Are you ready?

No, that’s how you spook a bear.

A fake laugh? Okay, good.

Oh, no.

__________________

Do you see them?

Here. Use me as a human stool. Do it!

I have a very big head. I’m not gonna make it, am I? Will you tell Gabriela I will miss her?

No. It’s okay. You go live a good life.

But then, we will both die, and I could never live with myself after that, so you let go! You let go!

Goodbye, Nicolas Cage.

I’ll never forget you. Now you get the hell out of here, you go!

Mr Cage?

Hey.

Oh. Yeah… turns out we could have just walked around.

Whatever.

There they are!

__________________

Ow! Ow!

You have to drive on acid, you are a better driver than me.

Because I read that you did all of your own driving stunts in Gone in 60 Seconds.

The wheelies are amazing. Now drive the car! They’re coming, let’s go!

Oh! Holy shit!

Holy shit!

No, Nick. I have an idea. Maybe this movie… maybe it’s about this. About us. Our relationship.

__________________

You want me to let you in there, huh?

Regardless of what the consequences are? Because once you go in there… it could change the way you feel about me. Our entire relationship could change, Nick Cage.

Is it too much?

I know, I am sorry if it is weird.

The Rock.

Con Air. Heh.

No, it's not creepy.

Mandy is a masterpiece.

Of course they are real.

Made especially for the film.

Just look at the guns.

Hmm. About 6,000.

I am sorry, Mr Cage, but this is not for sale.

__________________

Hold on, hold on. Your daughter gets kidnapped?

But who kidnaps her?

The barrel is definitely not warped. Who kidnaps her?

It feels like a completely different movie.

And then what? The finale is about two men saving the girl? That’s terrible.

Give me the gun. You know the key to shooting well? Controlling your breath. Do you know how to control your breath, Nick? Your heart. Your heart must be still. At peace. My heart… is not still. My heart is not at peace. Do you know why?

Because you’re lying to me.

Don’t fucking lie to me.

Don’t fucking lie to me!

I know why you keep on talking about this kidnapped girl. You feel guilty about your relationship with your own daughter.

You are blocked. Creatively. Because you feel guilty about what kind of father you have been.

Pull!

__________________

Nick, I need you to come with me.

I’m sorry to have to take this step, Nick.

No, it is the only option.

What? There’s no need to call them. They are here.

Unfortunately, I can’t do that. You left me no choice!

Yes. Creatively.

No, physically he is tremendous. I mean, he will probably outlive us all.

Ha!

Look, I have grown to care very deeply about your father. And ex-husband. We are working on a movie together. A beautiful character-driven, adult drama. But, he has so many unresolved issues with you, that it is beginning to bleed into the work in a negative way. Isn’t that right, Nick?

Well, you see he has so many regrets.

Well, I had a cat die in the kitchen. And my grandmother was never able to get rid of the smell. I am very sorry for the inconvenience, but this is an emergency. Have lunch with us. And let him say what he has to say. Don’t you think that is a good idea, Nick?

__________________

Wow. That was fucking pathetic.

No, no, no. I am honestly speechless.

Shit. I think we have more work than I realised, but this is good. This is very good. This is a good first step.

Gracias.

__________________

(In Spanish) Well, Lucas. What was so urgent you came all the way up here?

(In Spanish) Sergio Baldassari? The head of the Calabero crime family? I thought he was dead?

(In Spanish) You’re the boss. It’s your call.

(In Spanish) Wait. The election? That means you… You kidnapped Delgado’s daughter.

(In Spanish) What? Who’s being betrayed?

(In Spanish) Lucas, what's wrong? What does any of this have to do with me?

Oh, bullshit.

(In Spanish) What? No. Lucas, no. I had no idea.

(In Spanish) Lucas. Calm down! Calm down!

(In Spanish) Lucas, please don't do this. I swear to God, I didn’t know. No! No! No! No! No!

__________________

Hi.

I’m sorry. I should have asked you before bringing them down.

And I was thinking maybe a kidnapping would work. Our movie would start out as a beautiful character piece, and then slowly change into a more thrilling…

Would you like to drive out to the cliffs? Clear our heads and think through the third act?

__________________

So…

Yeah.

These? No. I’ve had these.

I don’t wear them very much. I don’t think they're really me.

Do you wanna try them on? I think they would look amazing to you.

Oh, wow! Those look incredible on you.

Yeah.

Like, permanently?

Okay.

I totally agree. It’s just… easy.

Well… I guess it’s time to figure out how this thing ends.

__________________

Nick… I meant what I said back there. Which is why this really hurts.

I’m sorry, Nick.

Wait. You were gonna kill me? And are those my golden guns?

Why the fuck would you kill me?

My cousin Lucas is the head of the organisation!

The whole world thinks I run it. When my father died, Lucas took over. He forced me to be the figurehead.

You don’t just leave this world, Nick. You, and everyone you care about, is in constant danger. Why do you think I cannot be with Gabriela?

Are you fucking kidding me? I can’t be with Gabriela because that would put a target on her back. Wait, you seriously didn't realise that we liked each other?

You're in the CIA!

No way. You go first.

I don’t wanna kill you.

I fucking love you!

It’s my cousin. He must've known I wouldn't kill you.

__________________

Faster!

Okay. You just run out there. You get the truck. You come back and get me. I will keep a lookout.

I love that plan. I do. But, you are a faster runner than me, even in subpar footwear. I saw how fast you were in National Treasure.

Not according to the Making Of featurette.

Wait! So you’re gonna go? I’m going with you.

There they are!

__________________

He’s coming up on us.

On your left! On your left!

Holy shit!

Hit the brakes! Hit the brakes! He’ll hit the back of the truck.

Yes it will, yes it will! Just do it, do it, do it, do it!

Don’t worry, he’s totally passed out.

Fuck!

I’m okay. Are you okay?

__________________

There are more soldiers coming. We have to go.

His people could still be in the area. We have to go.

I have a place. Let’s go. Come, come. Come now.

I bought this house 10 years ago for a situation just like this. It has everything we need. Food, passports, materials for disguise. We’ll be safe for the night.

Olivia. I promise you will get your daughter back.

__________________

The girls are likely being held in my cousin’s compound. It is a monastery that they use as a cover, but it is a fortress. It is impenetrable. There are walls on every side.

Tunnels. But with metal doors that only open from the inside. Even if it weren’t for all of the armed guards, it is impossible to get in.

We are going to walk straight in through the front gate.

Lucas is trying to form an alliance with Sergio Baldassari, the head of the Calabero crime family.

Exactly. And since no-one has seen him, no-one knows exactly what he looks like. Olivia. Nick says that you were an incredible makeup artist when you met. So, with some prosthetics and a little makeup…

__________________

Wait. Where is Nick?

He will never make it out if there alive.

Hey!

Shit, come on. Nick, go. Go!

Oh, shit!

Olivia, hand me the guns. They’re right in there.

Okay, stop the truck. I will slow them down.

Yes! You are two kilometres from the embassy. If I slow them down you will all make it.

No!

I'm never going to have any kind of a life unless I stand up to my cousin! I need this. Now, go. Go!

You stayed.

__________________

Nick.

Oh, no, I couldn't watch. I was, uh… I was too nervous. How did it play?

Really? Oh, wow!

This is… Nick. Thank you.

Do you wanna ride to the party with me? They want to interview us. Uh, Vanity Fair.

__________________

DELETED SCENE:

I just want you to enjoy yourself, have fun. You will have the rest of the day to unwind, tomorrow to explore. And the big party on Sunday.

N.A.T.I.O.N.A.L.T.R.E.A.S.U.R.E.2

Colon. Book of Secrets. All caps.

I mean, I can change it, if you want.

I should have changed it. I apologise.

You are right, why would I? It is a wonderful film and a phenomenal password.

Welcome to Mallorca, Mr Cage.

__________________

DELETED SCENE:

Okay. You ready?

What do you say we cut the chit chat, A-hole!

Yes, I'm sorry.

What do you say we cut the chit chat, A-hole?

What do you say we cut the chit chat, A-hole!

We cut the chit chat, A-hole!

Chit chat, A-hole!

A-hole!

What do you say, what do you-what do you say- fuck, Javi! What do you say-what do you say-what do you say we cut the chit chat, A-Hole!

__________________

FULL MASTERLIST OF PEDRO CHARACTERS DIALOGUE

#javi gutierrez #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #PPCU #javi guttierrez tuwomt #tuwomt #the unbearable weight of massive talent #javi g #javi g dialogue

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stationintern · 5 months

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author's note

draco/harry G, 1,322 featuring author Draco Malfoy, his unemployed husband, and an interviewer who seems a little too fixated on their gay little life. but that's just the way of fanfiction baby

BY GEORGIE HARKINS

NOVEMBER 17, 2023

“Draco, one of your admirers is here,” was the first thing I heard upon arriving at Draco Black’s modest country home. After being greeted by a luscious, wild front garden and a rather cantankerous tabby, I was met at the door by Black’s husband, who identified me quite correctly.

To say it was a surprise to receive the invite for an informal interview would be an understatement. Black, while well-known and heavily awarded, has never been seen in public, and has asked that I keep my descriptions of him, his family, and his home to a minimum. Though, I will do my best, despite the restrictions, to paint of picture of the man behind some of the most inventive and mature fantasy novels the literature world has seen in quite some time.

A story of the heir to a great name and fortune, caught up in a war steeped in the supremacy of magical people over their non-magical counterparts. The early books paint a picture of childlike wonder, excitement, and naivety, with the threat of what is to come in the later books just around the corner. A devastating struggle between dark and light, with our anti-hero caught up in the shadows, unsure of whether to escape and lose all he holds dear, or stay and sink deeper into the mire. The tale has earned him critical acclaim and household recognition, but, admirably, he’s maintained his privacy, and let his work speak for itself.

The inside of his home–bright, airy, full of greenery–is in sharp contrast to the usually bleak settings of his novels. Decay, both social and physical, has been a key theme across his series of fantasy novels: The Poisoned Heir. Despite this, he surrounds himself with life. We sat down at the kitchen table, where I asked him about this.

“I feel… to write about the breaking down of all we hold dear, we must first appreciate what we have,” Black said, cradling a clay mug of Assam, his preferred brew, “I’ve loved, lost, and rebuilt. We all have. But, to write it on such a grand scale can send me into a sort of… spiral. So, I try to find joy and life in anything I can outside of my work.”

One thing I noticed about Black was the way he seemed to take his time while speaking. I watched him grasp for words from the surrounding air, and told him so.

He laughed, “When I was a boy, I had a quick, sharp tongue. It hasn’t dulled with age, but it’s definitely slowed, and that’s a good thing.”

“A very good thing!” came the voice of his husband from the adjoining living room.

“I’m conducting an interview!” Black called back.

“I’m conducting an interview! ” came the voice again.

“Excuse him.”

“No, no. It’s lovely,” I said, “How long have you two been married?”

His husband is an “unemployed layabout”, in Black’s terms, not mine, whom he met during his days in secondary school. Though they didn’t reconnect until much later in life. He showed me pictures of them together, young and rowdy, casting uneasy glances at each other among friends. Walking down the hallway crowded with photos, I followed their life. From unsure crooked smiles to comfortable family candids, Black claims their love story is one for the ages.

“Twenty years, now. Two children, all grown up.”

“That’s impressive.”

“Isn’t it?” Black replied, looking down into the remains of his tea, pensive, “You know, it was Harry who convinced me to finally publish my novels. I’d thought about it for years, had them all written out.”

“All seven?”

“All seven, just sitting in a drawer!”

“If you hadn’t originally planned on publishing them, then what was the purpose?” I asked.

Seven novels chronicling the tense political schism in a society of magic users, the journey from innocence to awakening, a war to end all wars– sat in a drawer collecting dust. Except, Black said, his children did hear the same story growing up. Though, less polished. I was reminded of a photo I saw in that hallway, of a little blonde girl resting on a younger Black’s knee, reading from what looked to be some sort of parchment.

“It was therapeutic. A… retelling of my entire life in a way that seemed just as all-encompassing as it felt when it was happening. I was raised to have an incredibly skewed moral compass, and as time went on I began to heal, and reframe, but there was always this need to let it out. All of it, every last bit, so I could see it laid out before me.”

“So, you wrote.”

Black nodded, “I wrote. Only then could I truly understand myself and the world around me.”

“Based on what you’ve said, is it correct to assume that the main character is based on yourself?”

“In a sense. I think my biggest fear during the publishing process was that people would not sympathize with Lucien… that they would see his redemption as undeserved, a feeling I’ve carried my whole life.”

Lucien, the anti-hero of the series, received mixed reviews in the press. His many crimes were never glossed over in the books, as the character struggled internally throughout– sometimes excusing himself, other times devolving into self-loathing and punishment. Some critics claimed that the character was too far gone to receive a happy ending, while others lauded Black for his ability to write such a morally dubious character in a way that could be seen as relatable or understandable by the end.

“Did you get the reaction you were hoping for?”

“To this day, I’m still not quite sure. In the end, though, I realized that I didn’t need people to understand or sympathize with him, I just needed them to see him.”

“Well, he’s been seen by over fifty million readers. How does that make you feel?”

“Rather exposed, wouldn’t you think?”

“I would,” I agreed, “Now, if you don’t mind, I’m going to pivot a bit here, into something that may be a bit more personal.”

“Please.”

“You received criticism after the fourth instalment, in which Lucien realizes that he is gay, from both sides of the political spectrum. Some on the right were disappointed in his being gay at all, while the left felt that you were painting queer people in a poor light in an already intense political landscape. What would your response be to these critics?”

Black leaned back in his chair, comically stroking his chin, “I think I’d say… that I don’t fucking care what they think.”

“That’s quite blunt.”

“I’ve never been one for cutting verbal corners. More fictional queer people should be horrible and evil, until they equal the numbers of their real-world, heterosexual counterparts.”

“Well said.”

“Do you have anything else you’d like to ask me? I’m afraid my daughter will be arriving for lunch in just a few minutes.”

I thought about this for a few moments. Did I want to ask him about his current writing process? If we should be expecting a new work anytime soon? Ultimately, I decided on a question I felt would cater to him, as he’d given me this unique opportunity in the first place.

“Is there any specific character based on your husband in the books?”

A laugh resounded from the living room, and Black’s mouth turned up in a shy smile.

“Why, his school rival, of course,” Black replied.

“The one who Lucien beat to a pulp on the Quitchball field?” I replied, admittedly flabbergasted.

“Quite so.”

Harry joined us then in the kitchen, ruffling Black’s hair a bit before picking up the mugs we’d been drinking from, “I’ll have you know, Georgie, that I was the one who did most of the beating. You can go and tell that to the press.”

“Oh, I will,” I promised, and now I have.

if you'd like to say some kind things, or make unintelligible sounds, feel free to check this out over on ao3!

#draco x harry #drarry #drarry fic #drarry shortfic

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mrs-snape5984 · 28 days

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“Free me from this pain, I’ve been running from…”

“I'm tired and I'm free falling. Free me! I'm lost and I am calling you…” (“Free me” by Sia)

I’ve experienced some very rough hardships in my almost 40 years lasting existence in this world…but I’ve never given up on myself. I knew, that I’d have to fight my way back out of these horrible miseries, and I kept my faith to find the path to better times…to find the path, which will lead me upwards again.

I admit, these hardships left their marks, their scars on me. They formed my heart and my mindset…they made me the person, that I am today. I learned my lessons…and I kept going.

Since I’m living struggling with this goddamn bitch of a disease, called ME/CFS, my life has only one direction: It’s going downhill…and it’s getting faster! In these past 1,5 years, I’ve lost more and more of all the things, which made my life worth living for. I lost my ability to do my job as a pedagogue and social worker. I lost my freedom, since I’m stuck in my dark room day and night. I lost a lot of social contacts, since screen time is messing with my brain and each phone call costs me too much energy. I lost my capability to be an active mother for my three children…and this is the part, that hurts the most. Damn, I lost so much more…and I feel my heart shattering in pieces every fucking day!

Everything in my life is slowly falling apart and I’m losing my grip on reality…and on myself! The newest pain in the ass is probably my habit of passing out every few days. My whole system shuts down in the middle of a simple talk or something else and I’m falling into unconsciousness! I can’t remember the things, I’ve done before…I’m just blacked out for several hours. At first, my kids were afraid in these moments…especially when they couldn’t wake me up from this state! But now, they simply accept that “quirk” of mine as their new reality…and my motherly heart is aching for them. This shouldn’t be their reality! They shouldn’t have to live with a mother, who’s always in the dark…who’s always lying in bed! They’re children!! They shouldn’t have to whisper in my presence. I should be the person, they can rely on unconditionally!! Fuck…my heart is bleeding…and I’m sorry for my pathetic venting.

I need a way out of this hell…but since there isn’t any possibility for me right now, I’ll keep on clinging on Severus. My fantasies of him and my way of coping with my misery by writing stories about him and my - oh so self-inserted - OC Julia/Jules are the only thing, that keeps me mentally stable functioning. Well…at least that’s what I’m telling myself. I mean, I know how depressed my posts might seem.

My favourite artist for my darkest ideas is my friend @madfantasy. I told Mani about my wish to be freed from my darkness…to be cured from my disease. I need a saviour…a true hero…I need Severus! Since there aren’t any promising medical treatments, I’ll need a magical miracle to get rescued. And this is exactly, what Severus is trying for me. He conjures the demons inside my soul and forces them to leave my body. Severus is the only person, who’s brave enough to face the darkness within me. He’s my knight��and the love of my life. 21 years of my life, it was Severus, who kept me going…who inspired me with his resilience and his courage! A lot of those previous hardships could be endured by me, because I had something, I believed in. I had something, that gave me confidence and strength. I had Severus. So, please…don’t let me lose my hope and my faith in his support. And don’t let me lose my faith in myself.

Mani, my precious friend, I’m stunned by your ability to understand my ideas. Every time, I’m commissioning you for another project, your art helps me to soothe my troubled heart. It is as if you’re drawing my feelings!! I can sense my own emotions in every single line of your drawing. You don’t know, how grateful I am that I was allowed to meet you here. I love our conversations and our understanding for each other. Feel hugged, Mani! I’m sending you so much love! 🫂🫂 (fly fly) 🥹🖤 Thank you for everything.

🖤Severus & Julia🖤

🖤Sevy & Jules🖤

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writingquestionsanswered · 3 months

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Ambitions Story with Multiple POVs

Anonymous asked: I am trying to write a dark fantasy/cosmic horror story with a pseudo-anthology structure that is sort of like that parable about the blind men all feeling different parts of an elephant and thinking its a totally different creature. There are multiple POV characters (about 5-7) each are from very different walks of life, who the story cuts between as they all independently investigate supernatural stuff going on, each unaware of eachother and only getting a small slice of the mystery, while the reader who can see the whole picture that starts to form is able to put the pieces together to figure out what is really going on, as well as see how the actions of one character causes ripples that effect the others. I am struggling to: work out pacing of the individual revelations, avoid a gigantic cast that the reader can't keep straight (each POV character has their own supporting characters), make sure the individual stories connect (even if the characters themselves never realize it, etc.) How do I go about making this structure manageable without having to compromise on it too much?

[Ask edited for length]

I would suggest plotting out each of these POVs as though they were different stories. Then, create a timeline document and plot the major points of each plotline to see places where things might intersect. You could potentially have some of these characters cross paths--and even work together in some ways--without ever knowing the bigger connection.

As for the cast--not all of these characters need to have giant support casts. You could have a POV character who is working with one other person, for example. Or--let's say all of your POV characters are race car drivers, and they all have a pit crew, manager, etc. Consider the fact that you don't necessarily want 6 POVs telling different bus similar stories in a similar way... if all six of your POV characters are trying to make it to a particular championship race (is that even a thing?) and hopefully win the prize, you don't want to tell that same story six times following six different people. So, maybe one POV would be an old, legendary driver. One POV would be a young, green and untested driver. One POV would be the spouse of one of the drivers. One POV would be the manager of one of the drivers. One POV would be a pit crew member of one of the drivers. And, of course, these paths would all converge at the championship race. So, that way, instead of getting driver one's journey to the championship, driver two's journey to the championship, driver three's journey to the championship... all of which are going to look more or less the same, now you're getting these vastly different perspectives. Because the spouse of a driver can still tell the story of the driver's journey to the championship, but it's a different view of the story than the driver themselves, so it makes things more interesting. This also helps cut down on supporting cast, or at the very least creates variation so your reader doesn't have to remember six different drivers, six different managers, six different pit crews, six different spouses/significant others, etc.

I hope that helps!

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auxcordlawd · 2 months

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Part One: Wandering Thoughts of a Ravenclaw

Summary: 18 year old Ravenclaw student is dating Miles Bletchley (Slytherin), and gets on Professor Snape’s bad side

Warnings: French Kissing, Heavy Petting

Side Note: I prefer long drawn out stories, and this has been a fantasy of mine for quite some time. This is my first time writing fanfic, so lmk any comments, suggestions, feel free.

The snow was finally melting outside the castle, a sign that Easter break was near. After Easter break you only have one more term at Hogwarts, which gives you mixed emotions. You’re excited to start your career, debating between teaching at Hogwarts for Potions or working at St. Mungos as a healer. Both are realistic options due to receiving O.W.L.s and N.E.W.T.s in Potions, Transfiguration, Defense Against the Dark Arts, Herbology, and Charms.

You were now sitting in Defense Against the Dark Arts which is now taught by none other than Severus Snape. An ornery, greasy haired, hooked nose professor whom most students either feared or despised. Thankfully you never saw his worst as you followed the rules, yet he seemed annoyed by you. Maybe it was because I’ve typically done well in his courses. That is until this term.

You, a Ravenclaw, recently started dating Miles Bletchley, a Slytherin in your same year. He’s been walking you to classes, and just kissed you for the first time while dropping you off at Defense Against the Dark Arts. You can’t quit thinking of it, and are having trouble paying attention. It’s not until Professor Snape drops books heavily in front of you that you realize you completely zoned out.

“Miss (y/l/n)?”

Snape says looking down at me with a scowl.

“Yes Professor?”

You say while blushing, feeling uncomfortable under his harsh gaze.

“I asked you to repeat the spell you would use to lure a dragon to sleep. The one I mentioned not ten minutes ago.”

“Umm.”

Is all you can get out. You completely missed that part of the lesson.

“Detention with me after class. Perhaps you should concern yourself less with boys and focus on your studies Miss (y/l/n).”

Snape said while lowering his voice for the second sentence.

His concern gave you an odd rush.

After class was over you stayed sitting in your seat, holding you breath for what was about to come.

After the last student left he slammed the door, and briskly walked to your desk, his dark cape flowing behind him.

“Miss (y/l/n), I expect this behavior from the hormonal 4th year girls, but you, an 18 year old young woman, should not be daydreaming about a boy during my lecture. I truly could care less about your personal life, but since you have applied to teach Potions next year, I must question your competence.”

“Professor-“

He cuts me off before you can try to defend myself.

“You will be assisting me to grade papers for the 3rd and 4th year students for the next week starting tomorrow. You will arrive directly after dinner in my office ready to work. If you can get though this simple task I will not immediately remove your application from our files.”

“But-“

“All you need to say is ‘Yes, sir’.” He says in a commanding tone telling you the conversation is over.

“Yes, sir.” You say before grabbing your belongings and heading the Ravenclaw common room to process what just happened.

Your career now hanging on a thread by the most temperamental professor at Hogwarts. It took this for you to realize how badly you wanted to teach as opposed to being a healer. As you process this you start to feel angered by the entire evening.

You feel your stomach growl and realize you've almost missed dinner. You run down the spiral staircase and fall into Miles, who catches you with a smile.

“Woah there (y/n), where are you off too so fast?”

Miles states with a smile, still holding your waist. His blue eyes twinkle in a sexy way as he looks at you. You can’t help but admire his short blonde hair and athletic build, no doubt from all those hours on the quidditch field.

“I am starving, ravenous even.”

You say with flirty grin, liking the feel of his hands your waist.

“Come with me.”

He says pulling your hand away from the Great Hall. You follow without question excited for the distraction from the earlier encounter.

He leads you down the grand staircase and whispers the current password to the Slytherin common room. As the door opens you see a delicious looking spread of food being brought by disgruntled looking house elves. You feel a pang of guilt for the elves, but your grumbling stomach wins.

Miles gestures to a green tufted loveseat, and begins filling up a plate for you. He plops down next to you, handing you the full plate. You start scarfing down the delicious meal as Miles watches with amusement.

“Do they starve you over there at Ravenclaw?” He says with a smirk.

You laugh with a full mouth and elbow him in the ribs.

You finish your meal and start chatting with Miles. Your legs draped over his, his hand on your thigh. You start feeling the building desire to kiss him as the common room empties. You climb onto his lap and start to lightly kiss him as he pulls you closer. His tongue slipping into your mouth, your tongue lightly pushing against his as the heat between you builds. One of his hands slides to your ass under your skirt, the other on your ribs just below your breast under your uniform shirt.

“Ahem.”

You jolt up causing Miles to quickly remove his hands. You turn towards the common room door to see a tall dark figure standing there watching you.

“50 points from Ravenclaw, and Miles you will be reporting to Professor Sprout for detention for two weeks directly after your classes.” Professor Snape said with a smirk seemingly directed at you. “Miss (y/l/n), go straight to your dormitory.”

#severus snape x reader #harry potter fanfiction #fanfic #ravenclaw #slytherin #slytherclaw #professor snape #snape fandom #snapedom

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lesbianoms · 2 months

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Hihi love your writing and was wondering (if you took prompts) to do more werewolf endo stuff?

Anon I am SO SORRY this took 80 YEARS TO WRITE 😭

It Started with a Sandwich

(Includes soft vore, f/f vore, kink, safe vore/endosoma, gentle/caring pred, werewolf pred, same-size) minors dni!!!

I didn’t know her that well, but she knew me. At least, knew of me.

My college had recently implemented a new kind of "supernatural studies abroad" program; currently, they only offered it as a J-term with limited spots. It served to both teach us about the history of other countries, and to satisfy anyone who was super into fantasy and folklore.

On the night of the deadline, just 5 minutes before midnight, I typed up a rushed essay on a whim... now, here I was, studying old European legends in Romania. It couldn't be helped. I'd always loved the strange.

The woman I watched from across the cobblestone street was our guide. She was not a professor at my school, or a fellow student, or anything like that. Born and raised in Romania, she had shown our small group around, pointing out the tall churches and the intricate, weaving designs of stone atop old castles. Crumbling structure. Old structure. Yet the way she spoke of the past somehow endeared me to it.

I won't deny it. As I looked at her— sitting in the empty outdoor seating of a deli, eating her sandwich— I felt really attracted to her. She was older than me, much older, I'd say about 35 or something like that. Early 40s maybe. Just from her deposition she seemed the type to have kids. A husband, a family.

Not that there was anything wrong with that, because my heart was all too familiar with the stupid, stupid tugging pulse of heartache. It came with the territory of being in love with women who were an entire lifetime away from me. But still, I wondered... would she see me?

My thoughts drifted to the sandwich in her hands. Another perk of being a college student is forgetting that you need to eat to keep your energy up. I thought about the places I’d seen along the route to the hotel: there was a ramen place, a burger joint… hm, “Romanian Ramen” had a nice ring to it. Maybe-

I froze as she looked up at me, and with an embarrassed turn of my head I realized that I’d been spacing out and staring at her the entire time. Ugh, I’m such a dork.

But when I glanced in her direction again, I was confused (and admittedly, a bit intimidated) when I saw her waving me over with a smile. I slowly slid off of the wall I was sitting on and walked over, compulsively brushing at my hair with my fingers.

I hope I looked good.

“Hello!” she said. Her voice was sing-songy, with a soft yet prominent Romanian accent. It radiated warmth. “Would you like to have lunch with me?”

~~~

I don’t remember how long we both sat there in that Deli, talking and laughing. As the time went by and the world around us changed from bright to dark, we seemed to be lost in ourselves.

She was easy to talk to. At first I’d felt like a bit of a geek sitting down and rambling on about whatever was currently on my mind, but she just sat still and listened. She would nod and look at me with interest, as she continued to devour her sandwich. I’ve never been the best at making eye contact with people, so while I talked, I found my eyes wandering down to her mouth as she chewed…

watching her throat bob as she swallowed…

It’s at this point in the story I need to confess something. I have a bit of a… strange “interest.” This is kind of embarrassing, but a necessary detail to the story-

-Oh who the hell am I kidding? Vore. It’s vore. I’m into vore.

So now, as you can imagine, watching her eat made me feel a bit flustered. I was ready to just ignore the feeling and continue on, but ohhh boy… I had no idea what was coming next.

Somehow, we got back on the topic of the program.

“So? Are you enjoying your stay in Romania?” she asked, licking her fingers. The sandwich was completely gone.

“Yeah! It’s a really cool place, with a lot of history. I thought the stuff you were talking about yesterday was really interesting.”

She giggled. “Real spooky, hm?”

“Oh, definitely.”

“The legends, they are my favorite part of living here. I’ve had an interest in the supernatural ever since I was young. When I was 18, my mother took me to Transylvania— it was a difficult trip to make, but I begged her to go— and, ultimately, I’m glad I did. Some of my best and worst memories come from that trip.”

I leaned back in my chair, a slight chuckle in my voice. “Did you want to go to Transylvania because of the vampires?”

There was a sudden shift in her demeanor after I said that. Her eyes looked sad as she smiled and continued her story.

“Well, yes and no. There was something needing to be done there. I had studied vampires before, and…”

She looked left and right, as if making sure nobody was listening to us from the shadows. I blinked in confusion, then watched her lean in and heard her voice drop to a silky whisper.

“Do you know why Transylvania is the vampire country?”

I shook my head. She licked her lips and continued.

“It is because they need a place to roost. They like old things. Old castles. They need a place to hide, yes. But they can't have Romania, because someone is already here.”

“Who?” I asked, my brow furrowed in confusion.

She grinned, and in the rising moonlight, her teeth shimmered like fangs. “The werewolves.”

~~~

It had been hours since I’d let her give me a ride back to her place; the full moon, in that time, had been tucked away behind the clouds. Still. She kept all the curtains closed.

She could tell I was nervous. Even though we’d both been very clear about boundaries and terms, my anxieties were not quite put to rest. I felt stupid for asking, but I also felt like I had to.

"So you're not going to kill me?"

She gave me a warm smile as she stood across from me. "I understand your concern. But I can safely say that no, I'm not in the business of taking any lives. I'm no loup-garou, darling."

“…But you are a werewolf.”

Something dimmed in her eyes, and I felt a little bad for being so pressing with all my questions. But if this was true, and it was all real… I needed to be sure that I wasn’t in any danger.

“In Romania, werewolves are protectors,” she said putting a hand to her chest, “I swear on my life that I will not harm you.”

My fingers drummed along the bed that I sat on, and I took a deep breath before responding with, “Okay. I trust you.”

An excited look lit up her face, as she began to take off her clothes.

I watched, enchanted. Enthralled, by the swiftness of her movements as she pulled her shirt off, revealing her bare belly to me. Even mostly empty, it still sported a bit of a round shape. She had a little paunch that just hung over the waistband of her underwear, straining against the elastic. I stared.

When I heard her giggle, I hurriedly averted my gaze from her stomach and tried, unsuccessfully, to make eye contact with her.

"You like what you see?" she teased.

I stuttered, "Wow... um, I dunno if this is a weird thing to say but your belly looks so... soft..."

"Years of good hunting will do that to you, love."

I didn't really want to think about what she meant, so I slowly shifted my position on the bed, fiddling with the trim of my shirt. Quietly, I asked, "Have you ever done this before?"

She smiled and shook her head. "No, never. But you're so small, I should be able to get you down easily. You're like a baby deer."

A hot flush spread across my cheeks as I hummed in satisfactory embarrassment.

"Do you look for baby deer when you go out hunting?"

"No, no! Of course not. That is... not for me. I prefer not to go after fawns. They are in the prime of their life, no? And it feels, for me at least, that it would be cruel to snuff them out at such a tender age."

“So, I guess I'm your first, then..." I chuckled.

A wide, warm grin spread across her face as she approached and sat by me. I felt her strong hands on my thighs. Her voice was sweet, and I shuddered at her hot breath on the side of my face as she leaned in to whisper her melody to me.

"My sweet, sweet fawn," she purred, "these lips and jaws will be so honored to have your small form pass between them, squeezed so snugly into my depths…”

She sniffed at me, licking her lips.

“You smell delectable. Oh, dear, if you could only know how hungry my belly is for you… mmm, yes~ I am quite looking forward to wolfing you down, and keeping you warm during this cold, blustering night.”

"Oh god," I squeaked. I was smitten.

The heat of her round stomach touched my skin like the sun. Tentatively, I reached up a hand. My fingers curled into hers as she took it, grasping it gently. She led my hand over to the soft swell of her belly and I felt goosebumps break through on my skin as I made first contact.

Much like her, the resonance of her stomach made me feel safe. It talked to me with a low and constant grumbling, the groan of a hunger aching to be satisfied. I felt her belly growl against my hand. Oh god, I could only imagine how it must feel to be in there. It actually made me lightheaded.

"Wow…” I whispered, pressing the palm of my hand into her skin. "Your body sounds beautiful."

She flashed a coy grin at me. “The moon is up now.”

~~~

I watched in a mix of fear and admiration as she transformed. Bones shifting and cracking into place, ears and jaw muscles elongating… despite the awful noises, it didn’t look painful. I’m sure she was used to this.

The top of her wolf head and the tips of her ears just barely scraped the ceiling, and she stared down at me with a lustful glow in her eyes. A sharp-toothed smile curled across her muzzle, but instead of being scary, the expression actually made me feel kind of warm inside.

She licked her chops and beckoned me over with a clawed finger. My eyes widened as I watched this movement; her beastly demeanor, infused with all the graceful nuances of a human woman. Even now, it makes for a pretty picture in my mind.

Looking into her eyes, I knew that I was safe with her. I stared up, now pressed against her furry, somewhat swollen belly. The noises coming from inside were downright monstrous. I felt my core heat up, the sensation delving lower all throughout my body, as I slowly began rubbing my legs together. In sure she must have seen how excited I was, because at that moment, she opened her jaws wide and lowered them down onto my head.

Her tongue curled against my face as I entered the slimy cave, whimpering at the feel of so much warm and gooey saliva assaulting my senses. It seemed that first taste was all she needed for instinct to take over.

The gulps were loud and thick, occurring in rapid succession, and I didn’t have any time to think as I was swallowed up by the undulating movements of her gullet and sent down into her powerful stomach. She slurped on my body and growled as the last of me disappeared into her. I’m sure that, despite my size, I made a prominent bulge in her throat…

I could hear only my own breathing for a few seconds as I curled up in the fetal position— welcomed into my new snug home for the night— and then a meaty squelching from underneath me caught my attention, bubbling up into a series of digestive groans. I felt them echo all around my body, and I moaned, all inhibition drowned in that pool of warm acids.

I felt my sleeping bag shift, heard a big slosh of fluids as she flopped over on her side. She was panting and whimpering… I assumed with pleasure. A shrill bark left her jaws and she rubbed at me, pushing against my form, being sure not to hurt me even as she kneaded her prized catch. Me… a prize… I’d never felt so honored to be won as the shifting walls of her belly began to claim me. And as her stomach squeezed me, I came.

I have no idea how long we stayed like that, me and her. Her wolf gut made for a comfy pillow as I yawned and drifted off to the sounds of indigestion I was giving her. She moved towards her bed and tenderly squished me against the mattress, which made me wriggle and squirm. No harm came to either of us as we snuggled together in the most intimate way I know.

I think that overnight, my clothes melted. Or at least, most of them. I remember receiving a text from her days later that my panties were stuck in her intestines. I still don’t know how that happened, but admittedly, it was kind of hot. I got a little wet while I was responding to her.

I’ll never forget my trip to Romania, for several reasons… though if I had to pick one, I’d say that it was because of that stunning tour guide, and her beastly appetite that I had the honor of sating. And to think, that it all started with me watching her eat a sandwich… 💖

#v.ore #v0re #soft vore #vore writing #vore story #endosoma #safe vore #vore kink #werewolf pred #f/f vore #vore talk #asks #vore asks #female pred #sorry if the ending feels a bit rushed!#but i hope you like it #minors dni

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strawhatsoraya · 2 years

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hi love!! first of all how are you? how are things going? Hope everything’s okay. so, I’ve been reading your fics for a while now and I absolutely adore your style so I decided it was time to ask for one and hope for the best. it’s a NSFW with Zoro and a F! Reader, it would be about her joining the crew around skypiea and them pining for each other but being so good at hiding their feelings both them and the crew have no idea (Robin would still notice somehow ahhaha) but that only leads to the feelings become unbearable so I would say after the events of thriller bark (specifically Zoro taking Luffy’s pain) they just explode and they have a hot steamy session LMFAO (you have all the freedom to decide the details of how and why exactly they just say ‘fuck it’). hope you will enjoy this request and if not there is absolutely no pressure for writing it, of course. <3 byeeee

Hey lovely! It's been a week but I have this fic for you!! And man, am I happy to present it. I love Zoro, and I love pining, so while this was a very LONG labor of love--I had a lot of fun. This piece is a bit massive. It has 7.9k word count so it is not for the light of heart lol but if you read it to the end you get to reach the center of the tootsie pop *wink wink*. Thank you for requesting and I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it.

The Pull, the Moon & a Wish Upon A Star

ZORO X FEM READER | NSFW / Soft Smut ™ WORD COUNT: 7.9k CONTENT WARNINGS: alcohol consumption, nudity (duh), unprotected sexual intercourse (just don't do it folks, only works in fiction), biting, scratching, kissing, lots of angst and sexual tension, if you're looking for light and fluffy this isn't it, excessive mentions of the moon (so if you're anti moon gtfo), groping, nipple play, zoro talking too damn much and being a little nasty, for ZORO this is pretty TAME because he is like....enamored, so just let him be, allow this moment of softness because it doesn't come often, so, SOFT ZORO, and like this is zoro being soft so if you don't think it's soft enough...idk what to tell you, it's zoro, i proof read it twice so if you find a typo ignore it, if you tell me there is a typo you need to suck my dick first, thx A SUMMARY: I don't have one. Read the request lmao.

I - NEW MOON

A dreamer has no home in Mock Town.

Dreams were for children. Quaint little stories made of glittering sand sprinkled into their eyes, blinding them to the harsh truth of the world. The sting would force their eyelids shut, and they’d drift off into lands made of fantasy and fluffy clouds, carrying them off to somewhere peaceful; somewhere they would never be hurt, a haven safe from pain.

They’d lay in their bed woven from lies while the moon spills its light through the window.

It had been a long time since there was any moon watching over you. You slept in darkness, holding the lies you told close to your chest. A romantic heart held prisoner in a chest constructed by cynical chains. You spoke like a realist, even when it split your tongue in half. The taste of copper grounded you to your reality, and you swallowed it down, finding it a fitting exchange.

Your blood for the chance to avoid their scorn. It was the price you paid to live in anonymity.

Loneliness went down easily when you drank it with whiskey. You had learned this years ago, so you consume it daily; a necessary evil. It is smooth on your tongue as you watch them from your corner of the establishment. The back of their heads are unfamiliar as they sit at the bar. You think you imagine it, the way your heart seizes at the sound of his voice. A gruffness so rugged it cuts into your skin, spilling everything you held inside. You scoop it up immediately as you throw the rest of your drink back into your throat. The burn in your chest is antiseptic.

Dreams had nowhere to run in Mock Town. This is where dreams came to die.

It is a mantra you repeat, with every blow they deal on the loud captain and his swordsman. It is a mantra you clamp down on with aching teeth, when their navigator begs them to fight. Your fingers twitch around the etched glass in your hand. You grip it so tightly it cracks, like fault lines across the illusion you had been hiding behind. When they leave the bar, everything shatters.

You wake up, at last, from the nightmare you had built yourself only to plunge into a different colored one.

They’ll never come back. It is a lie you feed yourself, cram it into your mouth and down into your stomach, until everything overflows. Until you believe it. You pick up the fallen pieces left in their wake and start gluing them back together, before your heart can escape again. But he does come back, and a hammer swings into you when his fist flies into Bellamy’s face.

You chase after him as he takes his prize, your oversized kusarigama attached to your back. The chain links clink as you run, its sound chasing your steps. His name is stiff on your tongue but you cast it out, a coin entering a fountain–one last desperate wish. Luffy finds your proposal comical, and so is the weapon on your back. He smiles until the corner of his eyes crinkle, a smile so radiant you swear you’ve only felt the same warmth under the sun.

“Please!” your voice pleads, hands grasping at invisible strings. “I want to see the sky island too!”

His hum is contemplative. You feel time stop. You don’t breathe, you can’t, until he answers you at last: “Sure!” His laugh is infectious and odd. “You seem pretty strong, Kusari.” It isn’t your name. It never has been, but it sounds right when he says it.

It still sounds right when he introduces you to everyone; feels right in your bones. The swordsman’s eyes connect with yours–his gravity too large for you to avoid its pull. Inside you, the ocean’s tide begins to change. A smile graces your lips, congenial and friendly. One that was practiced and rehearsed, like every lie you told. Pretending was a curse you had been tasked with. It was easy and it was necessary. The method that always kept you safe.

Zoro shakes his head at everyone’s enthusiasm. Luffy’s impulsiveness was something he was used to, but disagreed with, time and time again. You were a risk he would have never taken. There were too many dubious variables, your background as a bounty hunter made you skilled and dangerous. His doubts on your genuineness are cast aside by excitement of a new adventure. Zoro lived on the edge of his swords, betting his life at every hurdle, his destiny always held firmly by his own capable hands. Sky island or you, it didn’t matter what the peril was. If it was in his way, he’d cut it down without mercy.

It would be a shame, he thinks–an afterthought polluting his resolve–if he would have to make you his enemy. Your weapon intrigues him, at least that’s his reasoning. There would be no other behind his curiosity. You had a face he could forget, if he really wanted to try.

He’d just have to want it badly enough.

II - WAXING CRESCENT

A persistent irritation, like a rash from a poisonous leaf, plagued him. You were too familiar, too quickly ingrained in his routine. Your sense of humor reminded him of Robin. Your mouth was always twisted, in a cynical kind of smile–but only with him. It annoyed him. You had no riddles for Sanji or Luffy or Usopp, but when you’d speak to Zoro–he was constantly baffled.

What was your insistence on befuddling him? He figures ignoring you would do the trick but your presence is unforgivable; a sin, like a nick on his blades, a scar on his back, a sake poured on dirt. He wanted to obfuscate your existence, like a dark cloud in a night sky, hiding the moon from sight.

Robin and you quickly become a pair, synchronized jokes, and synchronized looks. You team up and prepare riddle after riddle that Zoro can’t seem to solve. He contemplates leaving you two with Nami to your devices but there are so many unknowns in the jungle his conscience doesn’t allow it. His worries become unfounded when he watches you wield your weapon with ease. There was no sign of hesitation when you acted on Chopper and Nami’s behalf–placing their safety as a priority. His shoulders relax, but doubt still circles–a fin in the water–reminding him that it was still too early to tell if you were friend or foe.

Friend or foe, he can’t deny it.

Your face was one he could forget, if he really wanted to. The problem was, he was starting to believe he didn’t want to. In the brief free moments, his eyes would search for it–like a dry tongue seeking water. The softness of your cheeks beguiled him, made him wonder, like a fool, if they were soft as they looked. But your smile was a blade whose sharpness he knew too well. He couldn’t allow himself to be cut. It was a shame he could never live down.

III - FIRST QUARTER

An adventure on Sky Island had been one you never even had dreamed of. An island in the sky was something only children thought of. It had been a long time since you basked in innocence.

The thrill of surviving by the skin of your teeth still thrummed through your body. You giggled, a drink in your hand as you enjoyed the kitchen to yourself. The crew had gone to explore Water 7 and while you were happy to be part of the team–it was still something you were getting used to. Working by yourself, for yourself, had been something you’d done for years and were good at. Now, there were others; people you had started caring about.

He finds you in the kitchen, and immediately is envious of the glass in your hand. Not because the dark amber contents swirling around two blocks of ice is alluring. Not because of the way condensation clings to the glass, a sign of deliciously cold temperature enough to soothe most kinds of thirsts. He is envious of the glass, how you cradle it possessively when Zoro steps closer. He is envious of the rim, how your tongue flicks out to lap at a stray drop, sliding down–how it is graced by your lips when you bring it up for a drink.

“Looks good,” he says with strain. Tension pulls at his neck, making it difficult to talk. “Is there more of that?”

You gesture at the table, where you had left the bottle of whiskey. He intends to move, truly, as he is mere steps away from your body but your eyes are bright and mystifying. They jumble his thoughts and it takes a quirk of your brow to kickstart his brain once more.

As the moon commands, the tides obey, and a series of events unfolds that can’t be stopped. There’s so much to think of, you almost forget how much Zoro ails you. You forget how you think of him at night while you try to find a comfortable spot to sleep in. You forget the way his eyes pierce you during dinner, how they steal your breath. You forget the strange moments his hand brushes against yours when you pass him by, and the strange way he says your name as if it was a kiss given in secret.

You forget until Sanji is irate, top lip curled in anger. His words bounce off you, and you frown with a small shake of your head. You shake it, not because you find the accusation incredulous–you and Zoro had fought the best you could to protect the money–but because it feels as if you should care more. Zoro–usually calm, composed, quick to avoid drama–always flies at the handle at Sanji’s provocation. This time it’s no different. He comes, not to his own defense, but yours. The cloud over your mind lifts, and there’s a light beaming into your chest. Your mouth twists into a grimace.

You try to keep the light out by bringing a hand to your chest. Beams slip right through the cracks of your fingers.

Your hand is still over your chest when Robin goes missing. You seek her out, desperate for an ally to make you forget–to remind you of the dangers of letting others in. There was an unspoken understanding between you two; a darkness shared and understood. You understand this even when you find out about Robin’s possible betrayal. In your heart, you try to reason, in your mind you find enough to doubt. When Zoro speaks up, like the devil on your shoulder, and makes it clear he isn't holding his breath when it comes to Robin, coldness sets in. People were complicated. You had learned that lesson with blood in your mouth. You wonder if Zoro has learned this as well–or was he the darkness too? Did he find it hard to trust? Had he been forced to cement walls around himself?

You begin to sink in, hiding behind your usual facade. Lies slip out of your mouth, one after the other, snakes with two and three heads. It was better this way, fabricating a self so different from your true source that nobody could ever hurt you. Desire could only lead to disappointment. Whatever embers he had left behind on the back of your hand, you try to smother it out, covering it with your free hand.

IV - WAXING GIBBOUS

Raucous laughter meets shadows and light.

Luffy could never pass up a party, and after saving Robin there was so much to celebrate. The taste of sake on his tongue was familiar; a pleasant burning whose limits he knew all too well. This was something he could control, a phenomenon that did not incite fear or anxiety.

He could not say the same about the phenomenon of your skin under the light of the moon. A throat so dry he feels choking seizes his words, so he drinks and drinks and drinks. Relief never comes, sentences he repeats in his head as he circles around you fester in the pit of his stomach. You are so happy–elated even, that Robin is back. You haven’t left her side, cracking joke after joke.

It’s sickening how much it irritates him that you refuse to be alone. If it’s not Robin, it’s Nami clinging to your hand, offering you another drink. If it’s not Nami, it’s Luffy trying to shove more food at you–food you gently refuse. If it’s not Luffy, it’s the stupid cook, hearts shooting out of his eyes as he touches your hand.

Your hand–the one he hasn’t touched.

He bites down so hard he thinks he’s cracked a tooth, so he spits at the ground, expecting blood. He sees nothing, and chooses to believe that this means nothing. The sake is rotten, and he is tired, so so tired. Zoro doesn’t pray, he has never prayed in his whole life but he considers it that night when he closes his eyes. So he hopes instead. He hopes he’ll be over it in the morning and you’ll be nothing–a long forgotten moonbeam in a distant night sky.

He wakes up, and realizes quickly that you are still not nothing.

He swings his swords repeatedly, motions that he is familiar with. He focuses on the strain of his muscles, the ache slowly setting in. He focuses on the sweat on the back of his neck, the one dripping down his rippling muscles. He focuses as much as he can, but your gaze on him is fastidious.

He senses you watching him, a strange lecherous feeling that twists his stomach. He refuses to meet your gaze and bites down again. If his teeth cracked then so be it.

You are shameless, he thinks, as he swallows his drink. Your dark eyes are unwavering, focused on his neck. Zoro swallows, heart beating in his chest like a wild animal. His foot is under the table, tapping away as he tries to keep the rest of him still. Nami is arguing with Luffy, and Zoro shakes his head slightly, trying to wake up from the spell you have casted on him. He should laugh with the others, he should ignore Sanji’s pointed stare, he should ignore the cold sweat on his forehead and the sudden dip at the pit of his stomach when you lick your lips.

When you finally drag your eyes away from his neck, in a way that looks like it pained you, Zoro takes a sharp breath. He thinks you have set him free from this twisted prison but you ensnare him again when you meet his eyes. Zoro brings his glass to his mouth once more, and swallows the remains of the whiskey.

It burns his chest on the way down, but there is a fire more heated and consuming at the bottom of his stomach. One that builds higher and higher when you smile at him.

Later that night, when he’s prowling the newly constructed Thousand Sunny like a restless large feline, Zoro has to remind himself why he even set out from his hometown. He reminds himself that he has to become the strongest swordsman, as he fights the urge to slide his hands down his stomach, to reach further down for the arousal that bothers him. His forehead pressed against the cold wood of the training room, he tries to reason with his breathing. He thinks about the new bounties announced, the thrill of new adventures. There is no room for deviation in his goals. He knows this. There is a set path to follow–the one the moon has been guiding him to all along.

Turning to you would just lead him to darkness. Zoro refused to be swallowed up by it, no matter how alluring the flash of its teeth were.

V FULL MOON

A life for a life.

He thought nothing of it at first. He thought it necessary. At first he had lived selfishly, seeking to keep a promise given a long time ago. Somewhere along the way, his Captain’s dream had become as important as his. Somewhere along the way, he had friends he cared about, friends he wanted to protect. His strength alone had not been enough, and so for this sin: he offers his life.

If there was anyone who could protect the rest, it would be Luffy.

He tries to hold on to this hope as pain cuts into him. It rips at his skin, making tatters at what keeps him together. Blood splurts, hot and searing. A pain that burns so deep he thinks it’s in his soul. He clenches his teeth, willing for them to crack and splinter off, if it means keeping quiet. A man should not cry when his mind has been set up. His eyes are open but he sees nothing–not in particular, except his own blood clouding his vision.

He tries to focus on other things, when a pain so blinding and deep makes him want to drop to his knees. He thinks of Nami and Usopp, and hopes they’ll be okay. He wonders if Chopper will grow happier. He wants to believe Sanji will get stronger, enough to continue protecting everyone. That stupid, idiotic cook who had tried to offer his own life in his place. Zoro grimaces, a pained groan almost leaving his mouth so he bites down on his tongue–metal taking over his taste buds.

He had no regrets. He never had any but as his vision becomes blurry there’s a face that fills his eyes. A different kind of pain booms in his chest, until it fills everything, until it pushes out the air from his lungs. He takes a ragged breath, and feels fear for the first time in a long time. He fears regret. He fears never seeing her face again. He fears never knowing.

He should have held her. He should have kissed her. Just like he always wanted to.

He curses the sound of your voice, the same that cuts through the pain, and reminds him to hold on. He curses the softness of your skin–the back of your hand, the only sensation he knows of you. He curses how he craves to know more even in the face of this endless pain.

He curses you over and over again, until it is done, until all he knows is the pain you leave behind.

Sanji annoys him. Zoro tries to not lash out. His body feels heavy but he feigns it. He tries to keep it together for as long as he can. He has to make sure they’re all okay. Once he is convinced that it was all worth it, once he sees your face wearing an expression he doesn’t want to think about, he allows himself to rest. It takes all the energy he has left to leave you–to walk away from you without touching you, to not run his fingers through your hair, to press your body against his.

As consciousness fades, he wonders how much longer he can hold back. Would he regret it later? If he died? Would he regret never telling you? His inner voice becomes slurred, incoherent, distant until darkness takes him under.

Robin tries to tell you, even though Sanji tried to stop her. She tries to tell you the truth about Zoro but you dismiss her. You insist it is none of your business. Your voice is calm, flat even, as you fold laundry in an attempt to hide your trembling hands. In your mind, you’re screaming. In your mind, you want to run and grab him by the neck. In your mind, you want to understand what possessed him.

But in your heart you know why. In your heart, you know that Zoro wouldn’t have had it any other way, so you try to pretend you don’t know. It was the least you could do to pay him back for what he had given you all.

You know he will be fine. You know he will recover. He just needs time. You want to give it to him, and you do, as you try to stay busy. Still, your feet are treacherous. They keep taking you back to him. You watch him sleeping, a sickness weighing you down. Your eyes feel full, a heart so heavy you think you might collapse under its weight. Heavy feet root you to the spot by his bed. Trembling fingers reach out, so hesitant they can only touch lightly. You softly brush fingertips across his forehead; your silent prayer for him to wake up soon. The sight of his battered body makes you sigh, and your tear filled eyes rest on his hand. Those hands that had protected everyone time and time again. They seemed so strong every time he wielded his swords. Not once did you think they could look this frail. You reach out to touch the bandages, and gently squeeze his wrapped index finger.

Just as gently, you reach down and kiss his temple.

“Wake up, idiot,” you whisper, lips brushing against his clammy skin. “I miss you.”

Your confession feels like a knife you pushed into your own chest. You move quickly, almost run out of the room. Blood gushes, and you hold up a hand, trying to push it back in; the feelings, the words, that kiss.

When he wakes, it takes a moment to feel like he is awake at all. It isn’t until the straw hats leave Thriller Bark that he feels more like himself. Per Luffy, there’s a celebratory dinner. Brooks–someone Zoro was still getting used to–had taken it upon himself to be the night’s entertainment. Fish-Man Island was the next destination and Zoro’s excitement was slowly overtaken by hazy thoughts of you. The more he drank, the more he thought he should finally tell you. The more he watched everyone laugh, eat, sing, drink—the more he thought he should just accept it.

He should accept the pull you had on him. He should accept the command, the order of things; like the moon and tide.

He follows this pull up to the crow’s nest, newly remodeled by Franky. There’s little time for Zoro to admire the modifications. He is too busy trying to find a way to breathe again after the sight of you left him breathless. You’re bent over the telescope, gazing at the sky–he figures maybe the moon, maybe the stars. He’s not sure. All he’s sure of is that his heart might burst if it beats any faster. All he is sure of is that if he doesn’t find a way to silence it, you might hear it past the bones, and flesh entrapping it.

A fluttering of anxiety fills him with dread. A strange feeling he isn’t familiar with. It feels as if it was imperative he touches you; as if he didn’t, only death would follow, as if he didn’t hold you, the world–his or everyone’s–would end. It was such a dramatic, sickening feeling he wanted to rip his own heart out. If that was the solution, he’d do it but he had a feeling at the pit of his stomach that even that wouldn’t work.

He tries to quiet his breathing, not wanting to disturb you, too mesmerized by the sight of your round and plump ass. There’s fire over his skin, blistering and searing the hairs on his arms. He clears his throat, alerting you to his presence.

You turn around, embarrassed that you didn’t feel him entering the room. It’s a fleeting emotion, quickly overtaken by something much more complicated; heavier, infinitely more deadly. It is sickening, really, how insanely attractive he is. You swallow with difficulty, suddenly annoyed that you didn’t bring a drink with you; anything to whet your appetite if it meant keeping your hands off Zoro.

“Hey,” you say softly, trying to buy time for your mind to kick into gear. The cogs in your brain are sluggish. You blame the alcohol, and not the fire in your belly. You want to tell him you’re glad that he’s awake. You want to tell him how scary it was, but you know he wouldn’t want to hear that. “I’m sorry I drank all your sake while you slept,” you tell him instead, your mouth stretching into a crooked smile. “I figured someone should.”

He scoffs, matching your grin.

“That’s a poor excuse. You’re such a liar,” he tells you, and you take a sharp breath. You’re not sure if he meant it–that you were a liar–or if he just said it in passing. You blame the alcohol for your confusing thoughts, and you blame it again when you don’t notice the way he has quickly breached the distance between you two.

The moon is full and bright, hanging high in the inky night sky. Its light is bright and it shoots through the window, spilling over the floor. Zoro is mesmerized by the way it glistens on your brown skin. You look so small against the window, with your back to the moon, it makes him want to crush you against his chest. His mind is hazy, his tongue heavy. He blames the sake. He blames the sake and the moon. He blames them as his hand reaches out to brush a curl out of your face. He tucks it behind an ear, his eyes memorizing the roundness of your cheek, the shell of your ear. He blames the moonlight on your skin, when he cups your cheek to see if he can trap it there, between your skin and his calluses.

He blames the night sky, the smell of the sea when he reaches down to softly brush his lips against yours.

You can’t breathe when his nose brushes against yours. You still can’t breathe when he pulls back, enough to look down at you. His eyes stare into yours and you still can’t find your breath. You think you’ll die now, by Zoro’s mouth, by his hand on your cheek. Your heart pounding against your frail ribs reminds you that you’re still alive. It is a resounding call to arms. You think you should pick up your weapons, but the fire in his eyes burns your resolve to ash.

His heart is on fire. Zoro knows that is a ridiculous thought. He knows that’s not even correct or possible, but the longer he looks at you, the more he feels it to be true. He hears it in the distance; the sound of war—drums, and screaming, blades scratching against each other, sinew tearing, blood gushing; throbbing in his ears and in his veins.

The sound echoes in his body, a rush of adrenaline lighting small fires throughout his being. This moment feels infinite, as if he is frozen in time. A want so desperate pools inside him until it ignites.

He comes tumbling down when he kisses you again. A ravenous mouth open and seeking against yours. His large hands hold your face, as he brushes his tongue against yours with the sole purpose of consuming; conquering. Your tongue is warm and soft, slippery, a sensation he can’t get enough of. He hums when you give in, when you let him suck on it without inhibitions. His breathing is harsh through his nose, and it becomes quicker when you place your hands over his, when you move them down his arms onto his chest.

You grasp on to his shirt, as you return his kisses. His teeth are unforgiving. They bite down on your bottom lip, on the corners of your mouth. He is insistent on discovering everything about it. He runs his tongue against your bottom lip, his forehead pressed against yours. He wonders as he sucks on it, how many times have you bitten down on it, how many words have you swallowed in place to offer lies instead. He’s never told you how often he sees right through you. He sees it even now, as you struggle for control.

“Don’t fight it,” he breathes against your cheek, his fingers tangling in your hair. “Not now. Not tonight.” He kisses your closed eyes; one at a time. He kisses your cheeks, lips blistering hot. You feel him brush his mouth against your jawline. “Don’t think. Not until tomorrow,” he asks you against your neck, trailing kisses down the column of it. You think about this offer, consider rejecting, but when his teeth snags against the soft flesh on the hollow of your neck you forget everything. Your arms wrap around his shoulders as he follows your collarbone to one shoulder. He bites down with enough force to make you cry–one that turns into a soft moan.

It is enough. That is the sound that snaps his resolve. He wanted to be gentle. He wanted to make this moment last, as if he would never have it again, but you are something he was never prepared to fight against. When you moaned, with your nails digging into his back he was left with no choice. He had to have you, tonight, at all costs.

His hands are as unforgiving as his mouth. They rip into your clothes, ignoring your protests. The sound of tearing fabric is accompanied by the sound of your gasps. His breathing is harsh against your ears, causing a wetness between your legs you try to take no responsibility over. It is the sight of his chest, wide and thick when he rips his own shirt that makes your mouth water. Your hands reach out immediately, just as you always dreamed of. You run your palms over his muscles, memorizing every dip and sharp angle, as you press your open mouth to his neck. You suck on a spot, determined to leave a mark–any. It was desperation. One that was fed by fear. You feared this moment not lasting. You feared never again touching his skin, kissing him, holding him.

His own desperation was evident by his greedy hands. They way he seized your hips, to press his erection against you. His hands slide over your hips to your ass, and he digs his fingers into the supple flesh. He’s kissing you again, a clash of tongue of teeth; sloppy, and messy, a wetness on your chin he licks up before sucking on the spot. Zoro’s eyes take in the sight of the floor, as you kiss his chest. He moans when you bite down over a nipple, and he pulls on your hair.

“Stop that,” he hisses, pushing you back towards the benches. “Or I’ll fuck you on the floor.” It doesn’t sound unappealing to your ears, so you try to bite his other nipple but he is faster than you. He picks you up by the ass, forcing you to shout in surprise. Zoro carries you to the bench, and he sits down after placing you back on the ground.

You look down at him, and his naked chest. His pants are still on and you feel extremely exposed. Zoro had, in his efficacy, ripped every single article of clothing you had on. Leaving you naked, and heated. You scoff.

“So you get to keep your pants on?” you ask him, pointing with a frown. Zoro laughs at you, as he reaches into his trousers with one hand. He pulls out his hardened cock, and strokes it gently. There’s a lump in your throat, one with no name, so you swallow it quickly. The sight of his pink tip is enticing. He smears the precum over his slit with his thumb. You think it a shame, and almost tell him so but he’s speaking trying to get your attention.

“Pay attention,” he tells you with a raised brow, his hand settled now at the base of his cock. You raise a brow to match his. Zoro smiles, and pats his lap with his free hand. “Come here,” he commands you to move towards him, heart hammering away at the prospect. You had thought of this moment before. You had no shame admitting it now. You had thought often of how it would feel to have Zoro inside you, so deep you could feel like dying. It seems Zoro had other plans when you approach him as he spins you around by the hips. “This way. Your back to me.”

You swallow and sit on his lap, feeling his cock pressed against your ass. He kisses your shoulder, your neck as his hands roam over your thighs. There’s a slick coating your folds. You’re more aware of it the more he touches your skin. His breath is hot against your ear when he speaks again: “I’m going to spread your legs,” he tells you, and follows through quickly on his statement, spreading them by grabbing your thighs. You gasp, cool air touching your heated core. Zoro runs his tongue along the shell of your ear. He nips the top of it, teeth sharp and digging hard enough to leave an imprint. You feel yourself getting wetter.

“You’re wet,” he breathes out–a heated whisper, almost trembling. His fingers rifle through your folds, slickness covering his fingertips. Zoro presses his mouth against your ear, his eyes closing at the pleasure. It feels so silky and soft in his fingers. He craves more. “I’m going to make you cum,” he tells you, slipping one finger in slowly, one knuckle at a time. “I’m going to make you cum over and over again. I want to touch you everywhere, deep inside.” He slips in another finger when you moan, curving them in search of that spongy spot. His desire builds the wetter you get, the more you moan and whimper in his hold. His cock is hard, and it leaks again against your back. You feel it there sticking to your skin. “I want you,” he growls against your shoulder, as he picks up the pace, scissoring his fingers inside your squelching pussy. “I want you so badly. This isn’t enough.” His teeth sink into the soft flesh of your shoulder. You cry out, as he clamps down harder, leaving a mark on your skin. He kisses the blooming bruise, hand moving desperately as you clench around his fingers. The soft pad of his palm beats against your clit, his calluses eliciting a pleasure you never knew could be possible every time they brush over your sensitive nub.

He leans over you, his broad chest making you feel vulnerable and small. Your thighs are aching as he continues to push his fingers in and out of you. “Maybe another one,” he grunts in between pants, peering over your shoulder. He watches himself insert a third finger into your soaking pussy. You cry out, at the sensation of being stretched. He is watching himself work, his bottom lip trapped between his teeth. Sweat clings to his temple, and runs down his cheek. You’re doing your best to hold back, the fear of being heard keeps you from giving in entirely but the sight of him so enthralled with the way he’s beating into your pussy makes you want to fold. “Do you like it?” he asks you, panting against your ear. You whimper and bite down on your lip, almost drawing blood. “You’re so wet and so tight. I think you do,” he insists, licking your ear, and sucking on your earlobe quickly after. “But why are you holding back?” His mouth is flushed against your ear, his breath humid. “Are you scared they’ll hear you?”

Zoro chuckles lightly against your ear, picking up speed until it becomes a brutalizing pace. The sounds in crow’s nests are lewd enough to make you blush. You hear the wet sound of your pussy, the way you keep whimpering and gasping. Your body is shaking.

“Come on, babe,” he asks you in almost a whine. You gasp, and moan, surprised at the visceral reaction your body had to the sound of his soft voice. “Let me hear you. The real you. Or do I have to fuck you harder?”

The moon continues to hang high in the sky as he works his fingers inside you. Its beams scatter in the room, casting shadows over the side of your face, and over your breasts. He wishes he could see more than he does. He wishes he could memorize the sight of you, falling apart to his touch, and never forget it. The scent of your shampoo haunts him, so he scissors his fingers inside you in a desperate attempt to even the odds.

He kneads one breast with his free hand, squeezing its nipple between index and thumb. When you cry out, he gasps loudly against your ear, surprised at how much that turned him on. He wants to hear it again, again, and again; so he repeats the motion, twisting and pulling until you’re moaning and whimpering in his embrace. Your skin looks so soft under the moonlight. He brushes his lips over your neck and shoulders trying to taste you. It isn’t enough so he tries again, chasing the essence that makes you who you are. He nips at the flesh of your back as you bend over, a particular strong jolt of pleasure forcing your tummy to contract. No matter how many times he digs his teeth into your skin, until you’re covered in crescent shaped marks, he can’t seem to get his fill of you. You feel so good around his fingers, your arousal dripping down his wrist and his forearm.

Your orgasm catches him unaware, and he slows down his fingers, surprised at the loudness of your voice. He finds himself laughing against the hair above your ear, pleasure making him shiver. His fingers slow down slightly before he pulls them out entirely. “About time,” he whispers before he has you flip over to face him. He adjusts you on his lap, until you’re grinding your soaked pussy on his cock. “But we’re not done. I need more.” He brings your face to him, a hand on the back of your neck. The kiss is forced, mouth pressed tightly against yours. You whimper softly under its weight. Whatever tenderness that kiss held evaporates when his attention moves downwards to your breasts.

He sucks on your breasts, as he grips your hips. His fingers hold you so tightly you’re compelled to move them against his length. He leaves bites over the swell of your breasts, and the fire inside you continues to burn. You had stopped trying to hold it in, your moans cast into the shield of darkness like stars on the inky sky. Zoro seizes them with his mouth, teeth bearing down on them. He pins them to his body like decoration and seizes to find more, conquer another every time he nips at your sensitive nipples. You hold on to Zoro, desperation forcing you to dig your nails into his back. Every time he kisses your breasts you feel like melting, disappearing into the heat of his mouth.

Your hands reach out to his face, trembling. Your hips move still, the heat of Zoro’s hands keeping them steady. His eyes on your face send a shiver down your spine. Your breath feels so out of reach, as if you’ll never catch up to it, to place it back in your lungs. You trace over the angle of his cheekbones, try to memorize the sharpness of his jawline by going over it with one index finger. Although pleasure continues to build, you’re distracted by the sight of his ears. His earrings trap the light of the moon, and they blink repeatedly, little stars hanging from his earlobe; a mesmerizing sight that makes you want to make a wish. If you wished with all your heart, would it come true? If you wished for a dream, would it be fulfilled?

Your breath hitches, eyes glued to his swinging earrings. Their beautiful golden color is made all the more striking against his tanned skin. You touch them, fingers playing with them. Zoro takes your hand and kisses the inside of your wrist, the pool of your palm. He moves your hand to his chest, and presses it there. The feel of his heartbeat steals your breath. You gulp, trying to shake the dizziness, but Zoro is kissing you, taking your bottom lip into his mouth gently. You hold his face between your hands when he pulls away, feeling like you’re holding on to water. His hands are back on your hips. He lifts you up, as the fingers of one hand drifts to his earrings again. You brush your fingers against them, and they make a soft tinkling sound–a quick little song–as he buries his cock inside you.

It is better than you could have ever imagined. He fills you in an instant, provoking moan after moan to flood your mouth. Soft, and steady, you tell yourself, pressing your forehead against his. He lets you lead at first, his fingers tapping repeatedly against your hips. He’s counting, for who knows what, timing an entrance.

Zoro thinks he's finally lost his damn mind. He was determined to savor this moment—like an expensive whiskey, consumed in small sips, swirled around the tongue before swallowing, but you’re so wet, your arousal coats his belly, and sinks into his pants. You’re hot inside, fiery, and smooth. Every swirl of your hips reminds him of how desperately he wants to ram into you, again and again. He thinks about you clenching around his fingers as you moan against his mouth. He sets his jaw, trying to tighten his grip around his willpower but your pussy is even tighter. His breathing is ragged, he shakes his head, trying to cast off the sudden heat in his eyes making him see red.

But he can’t help it. He can’t fight it any longer.

“Okay,” he says against your neck as you continue to bounce on his cock at a slow pace. His hands are on your hips, they grip tighter. It should have been your warning but you’re so caught up in the feel of him, eyes shut as your face is turned to the ceiling, that you don’t realize what’s happening. “I’m sorry but I need to do it my way now.” He holds you still, and starts thrusting up into your pussy at a maddening speed. You cry out at the sudden change of pace, fingers digging into the muscles of his shoulders. He hisses, but he doesn’t let up, selfishly chasing the high of your tight pussy.

“Oh my God,” you cry out, eyes shut tightly, as pleasure courses through your body.

Zoro laughs against your pulse. He sucks on it even as laughter rumbles in his chest. When he comes up for air he asks you: “Who’s that? Don’t know him.”

You laugh but it turns shrill, morphing into a cry of pleasure. Zoro feels you clench around him, faster and faster. He moans, and bites your chin. He picks up the speed, angles his hips with his eyes on your face, determined not to miss a single thing. When you cum, fall apart around him, he watches you with his mouth open–barely staving off his own orgasm. You fall into him, and he holds you, your body twitching in his embrace.

“No,” he says, pushing your back on the bench. You look up, eyes fluttering close, your body feeling heavy and sore. “A little bit more. I need just a bit more.” You shake your head, weakly pressing a hand to his chest. Zoro takes your hand, wraps the arm attached to it around his neck. “Don’t act weak with me. I know how strong you are. So just take it. You can take it.” He takes one of your legs and places it on top of the backrest of the benches, your ankle bumping into the wall. Zoro stares down at you, and you’re caught again–by the heat of his gaze. Dark green lashes fluttering under the moonlight, his swinging earrings blinking at you, his mouth parted, a flush on his cheeks. It all looks so divine, you think this a sight belonging to the gates of Heaven. You think you’re close to dying.

And death comes calling when he enters you again. You have nothing left inside you to fight it. You moan time and time again, with every brutish slam of his hips against yours. His balls sound loud and impossibly perverse every time they slap against your ass. There are bruises forming, you’re sure, but you don’t care. You hold on to him, wrap your arms tightly around him but he pushes you down, determined to watch your expression. You cling to his hips instead, the ones that keep pummeling into you, harshly, his cock ramming into your puffy and overstimulated pussy. He thinks the sight of your face, twisted in a mixture of pain and pleasure is the sharpest knife he has ever been cut open by.

Zoro staves off a cry of pleasure by diving in for a kiss, desperately sucking your tongue into his mouth. He kisses the corner of your mouth. From his mouth, he hears stupid promises but his mind can’t believe it even through the haze of lust. He tries to take them back but he whispers into your ear again, soft and sweet things he wouldn’t dare speak in the light of the sun. You know he’s only saying this because he is not thinking straight, because like you, he is consumed by this burning lust. You know when a new moon comes, when this has waxed and waned, that he would forget the words uttered in a moment of madness.

He loves the way you feel, the way it’s so easy to kiss you. He loves the way your voice catches on his skin, slipping into the little cracks to stay forever. He hates it too. Hates how he thinks he’ll carry you always. Even in the light. Even in the dark. He thinks he should take it all back, the kisses, the words. He thinks this even buried to the hilt, your pussy fluttering around his length again. He thinks this even as he gasps and moans, cuming with you.

His body shudders as he spills inside you. You feel it start to ooze out of you, but you ignore it, just like you ignore the sudden flush of your face.

Zoro crumples over you, and covers you in kisses. Your hands are shaking as you seize his shoulders, trying to find the sense to speak about what just happened but he is gone the moment you grasp him. There are towels nearby, and he drapes one between your legs. He lowers himself over you, trapping your body between his arms. His mouth is still relentless, kissing your bruised lips over and over again. You see the moon caught in his earrings again, and you reach out for it.

Someone once told you, a dream was a wish you made on a star. Your fingers dance along his earrings. The gold blinks back at you–twinkling stars hanging from his ear. You wish, on all three, for the same dream.

You wish that maybe when the new moon comes, the pull it had on you two would bring you together time and time again.

#fic request #zoro x you #zoro x y/n #zoro x reader #zoro smut #zoro angst #zoro soft smut #Soft Smut ™#one piece x y/n #one piece x you #one piece x reader #one piece smut #one piece soft smut #for the cummunity!

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starrysnowdrop · 3 months

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Random Lili Headcanons

So I’m still so shocked at how well the Lili x Krile gposes were received!! I’m going to take a chunk of it as Krile hype (and rightfully so! Krile has been sidelined for far too long!), but I’m very happy that y’all seem to be curious about Lili as well! I’m still ironing out the details enough to write up a full profile (and I might make Lili her own sideblog for organizational purposes, but I haven’t decided yet), but I figured it was time to share some of my initial headcanons for her and where I think I’ll go with her story. This will be a random list of things that just pop into my head, so I apologize if I start to ramble a bit.

Lili is the name she likes to be called, but her full name is Lilika Lika, and it’s not only a canon compliment Dunesfolk name (unlike Hali, heh), but it’s also my little nod to Final Fantasy X, because I think it sounds similar to Kilika Island.

Lili’s pronouns are She/Her, she is cisgender, and a lesbian. She has had relations with men in her past when she was finding herself, but she came out as a lesbian when she was 20 years old.

She was born in Ul’dah and she is actually the distant cousin of Hali! Lili met Hali when Hali first arrived in Eorzea and looked up information on Nanani’s family (Nanani is Hali’s grandmother and Lili’s great aunt who left Ul’dah to marry her husband and live in Sharlayan).

Lili is descended from a prominent family whose members almost always become involved in the Order of Nald’thal, with many members also joining the Thaumaturge Guild. Lili tried her hand at Thaumaturgy but she found herself woefully unskilled in magic. Instead, she joined the Pugilist Guild and eventually trained in the techniques of the Ala Mhigan Monk.

I plan on Lili’s main canon job to be Monk from ARR-EW, but perhaps she trained briefly as a Samurai before she takes up the twin blades of a Viper for Dawntrail.

Unlike Hali who never believed in any forms of religion and only understands religion in an academic sense as a Sharlayan, Lili does believe in the Twelve and has her faith shaken by the events of the MSQ and of course the events of the Myths of the Realm raid series.

Lili has had several casual relationships, including a brief fling with Tataru during ARR and HW, but she never had any serious romantic feelings about someone until she met Krile.

I’m still working out a timeline of the Lili x Krile ship right now, but I’m thinking about them confessing their feelings and officially being in an exclusive relationship around Post ShB to Pre EW. Sometime in the 5.3-5.55 range. They get together before Hali and Aymeric do at least.

Lili is represented by opposing symbolism to Hali, and they are a duality of forces. Hali’s symbols are water, ice, darkness, night, stars, spring, etc. whereas Lili’s symbols are fire, light, day, sun, autumn, etc. Hali is a magic user and Lili is a melee fighter. Hali is extroverted and highly emotional while Lili is introverted, practical, and usually in control of her emotions.

That’s all I’ve got for now! I’ll be working on a full profile for Lili in the meantime, so please look forward to it! Any feedback is greatly appreciated! 🥰💖

#ffxiv headcanons #female warrior of light #female lalafell #dunesfolk lalafell #lilika lika #lili x krile #yup she needs an OC tag and ship tag #i’m working on it

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holdinbacksecrets · 3 months

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hii lovely, do you have any fic recs?

actually while we’re at it, your writings and the things you reblog are just beautiful, do you have any book recs too?

i have so many! and thank you for sharing kind words 🖤

my bts side blog is @sayeuphoria and my fic rec tags are ‘sticky feelings’ and ‘sweet like honey’

i’ll also make a little list of my favorite fics and ones i go back to regularly. the majority of these are 18+. mdni

also, please interact with fics you love. reblog them! reblog them with tags! reblog them with comments! send an ask or message to the author! but please reblog. you know how good it feels to take yourself out for a little treat? that’s how reblogs feel, and they make writers want to keep writing. it warms the hearts of writers to know someone was touched by our work, and a part of a piece that we’re really proud of ended up being someone’s favorite part of the fic. plus, don’t you want others to read your favorite pieces?? reblog to help people find them 🖤 it’s a potluck, and if you aren’t bringing a dish (which is totally fine), at least be willing to slice and serve some cake!

Rattled by @gukslut i first read this series over the summer of 2021, and i think about it on a weekly, sometimes daily basis. i reread it every six months. it’s an absolute gem, impeccably written. one of my favorite jungkook’s i’ve ever read

My feet to follow, and my heart to hold by @daechwitatamic i read this series as it was being posted last year, and i used to wake up so excited on the morning of a new chapter. this namjoon unleashed something in me, and i’ve been left craving love more than i used to. i love the presence of poetry too.

Guarded by @xjoonchildx this series was the first mafia au story i read and fucking loved. i’ve gone back to it so many times. i love the way hoseok’s perception of oc changes as the story progresses. oh so good and satisfying.

these blurbs by @darlingjoon tore me in half and stitched me back together

i’m a sucker for angst, and i love all the angst my lovely friend @taetaespeaches writes, especially for yoongi. perfection, but i’m going to drop some of my favorite titles of her fantastic, beautifully written work:

“i thought you left.” yoongi

“You know that I would ruin myself over and over again for you.” yoongi

“I didn’t think you’d care if I came back.” yoongi

“You’ve been my future since we were teenagers.” taehyung

“Let me hold you. Let me take care of you.” taehyung

“I may or may not have met someone.” taehyung

“You think I’d leave you if you falter?” jungkook

my @here2bbtstrash favorites:

deep end namjoon. this fic changed my life.

the shape of your body jimin

the spins jungkook

Love cafe by @chocosvt this jeonghan piece!!!!! AHHHHHHHH! the whole piece is amazing, but there were some scenes that were especially sweet and endearing. i remember sending a friend screenshots of dialogue freaking out.

i was so excited to share @by-moonflower-deactivated202401 bc their writing is incredible, piercing, and feels so nostalgic, but oh shit 😭😭 just learned they deactivated ☹️

book recs:

i’ve read almost everything by taylor jenkins reid, and i’ll recommend her books forever.

last year i read the book of azrael by amber v nicole and loved it. it’s a dark fantasy romance. i haven’t read the sequel yet.

this year, so far, i’ve read days at the morisaki bookshop. it’s a quick read but very sweet and comforting, with life lessons just beneath the surface. i’ve also read heavenly bodies by imani erriu. it had me screaming and kicking my feet. i posted about it here a few days ago. i’m reading the sequel right now.

dub finding ceremony by alexis pauline gumbs is a book i read my senior year of college, and it inspired a lot of writing for my independent studies prose class. braiding sweetgrass by robin wall kimmerer is another beautiful read.

#s talks #lovely nonnie #fic recs #book recs

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lilareviewsbooks · 11 months

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Gay Mermaid Books!!

Are you excited? 'Cause I'm literally so excited -- who doesn't love a gay mermaid book? Honestly, I think mermaids are a little underrated as fantasy creatures, and so it's time we change that. And be gay along the way. 'Cause why the fuck not, right?

I've compiled this list with all the gay books with mermaid and mermaid-adjacent creatures I've read before. I've also made a GoodReads Shelf with more books, as some lovely people from SaphLit (a sapphic bookclub you should definitely join!) contributed. I haven't read the ones that aren't here, though!

The Deepwater Bride, by Tasmyn Muir

If you're a veteran of queer books, you've probably heard of Tasmyn Muir! She's the author of The Locked Tomb Series, which starts with Gideon The Ninth and is about gay necromancers in space! It's a wonderful series, but before she sat down to write that, Ms. Muir penned this novellete, which is featured in the July/August 2015 issue of The Magazine of Fantasy & Science Fiction.

This is a more Lovecraftian take on aquactic creatures. The Deepwater Bride follows a young girl who can see the future, and the weird things that begin happening in her small town. All the while she's falling in love (with a girl, duh)!

This one will give you Ms. Muir's traditional cheeky style, which includes phrases such as the iconic "the drowned lord who dwells in dark water will claim you. the moon won't rise tonight, and you'll never update your Tumblr again". Not to mention, it's a quick read, and still takes you on a rollercoaster of a ride that will leave you wanting more.

Aquicorn Cove, by Katie O'Neill

Another quick read, Aquicorn Cove is the sweetest graphic novel you'll read. It's a middle grade, but like Ms. O'Neill's other work (The Tea Dragon Society, which you should also take a look at, by the way), this one can be enjoyed by all ages.

Aquicorn Cove follows Lana, a young girl who comes back to her family's seaside town to help clean up after a storm, and soon discovers the aquicorns - seahorse-like sea creatures. And, don't worry, there will be mermaid-like creatures as well!

This one is extra special because of how cute and fluffy it is - if you're looking for a nice, comforting read, look no further! Aquicorn Cove will fill your heart and make you feel warm and fuzzy inside!

The Girl From The Sea, by Molly Knox Ostertag

The Girl From The Sea is also a graphic novel! This one follows Morgan, a 15-year-old who terribly wants to leave the island she grew up on. But everything changes when she meets a selkie called Keltie, and her desire to leave seems to lessen...

What I really loved about this one was the introduction to the mythological figure of the selkie. It's so rarely seen in modern SFF and I thought it was lovely to see it here. Not to mention, the art is super sweet and it follows that queer first-love plot-line every gay person needs to read every once in a while. Definitely recommend!

Ice Massacre, by Tiana Warner

This is the first book in a trilogy I haven't completed yet, but this first one impressed me so much, I couldn't help but recommend. It follows Meela, who lives in the fictional Polynesian island of Eriana Kwai, which has been attacked mercilessly by mermaids. As a solution, the elders send groups of young men out to sea to try and kill them, but it hasn't been going well - the men fall prey to the mermaids' songs. Now, Eriana Kwai is trying out a different strategy - sending young women, and Meela is among them. But she might not be as immune to the songs as all the other girls are...

Ice Massacre is action-packed and is perfect if you're in need of a post-Hunger Games-revival fix. Most of the story follows the girls in the boat, as the situation progressively gets more and more dangerous, and it definitely feels like reading about Katniss in the arena. Although the story does skew a little younger, I do think it's a good read, and it had me totally hooked from start to finish!

The Deep, by Rivers Solomon

This is definitely the most interesting of the mix, and the one I recommend the most! The Deep follows an underwater, mermaid-like people, descendants of enslaved African women who were thrown overboard slaver ships. Because of their painful history, they have designated someone to hold one to their collective trauma: Yetu, a young mermaid, is their historian. But this role can be more draining then it seems, and Yetu might find herself wanting something else.

The world building in this novella is just so unique! And it draws you in. The writing is very atmospheric, making you feel like you're in the ocean (and I'm super scared of deep water, so that was a weird experience lmao). Not to mention, Mx. Solomon seemlessly weaves in themes relating to slavery and the Black experience, not to mention the queer representation. It's definitely a must-read!

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tabswrites · 10 days

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WIP Questionnaire

Tagged by @winglesswriter here!

Gently tagging: @bee-barnes-author @mysticstarlightduck @mister-writes @pandoras-comment-box @ahordeofwasps @theprissythumbelina and an open tag. Blank questions below the cut!

For the Guardians of Eternity Series:

1. What is the first part of your WIP that you created?

The initial idea was about a magical bear of some sort that would appear and guide people to a magic forest. The story grew from that one idea.

2. If your story was a TV show, what would the theme song/intro be?

Instrumental, for sure. I really like Bear McCreary (Outlander, Godzilla, Rings of Power, etc.) and Lorne Balfe (His Dark Materials, Wheel of Time), so I’d be happy with any composer with similar vibes.

3. What are your favorite characters that you made? Why?

My creatures! My cute little guys 💜 I love them so much. But I love each of my MC’s equally—it’s impossible for me to choose. I’d say I have the most fun with Adrin, but my best writing is with Hettie.

4. What other pieces of media do you think your fan base would share?

If you like anything character-driven with found family, magical creatures and fantasy worlds where nothing is ever what it seems, you’ll vibe with me. I’ve taken inspiration from a lot of my fave shows/books, so there’s something for everyone.

5. What has been your biggest struggle with your WIP?

Everything. Tomb of Light is the first novel I have ever attempted to write, and the first time I’ve written fantasy. It’s hard to know when to let loose and when to pull back—which is how I’ve learned that I am an underwriter. Big time.

6. Are there any animals in your story? Talk about them!

Creatures!!! Hell yeah! I made a post here about them.

7. How do your characters get around? (Ex. Trains, horses, cars, dragons, etc.)

By foot or by horse (except Adrin, who is afraid of horses. He walks everywhere. Like a fool.)

8. What part of your WIP are you working on right now?

I have started outlining and writing the sequel to ToL, The Forest’s Embrace! In addition, I am also working on ToL’s first round of edits (which is very hard without alpha readers).

9. What aspects (tropes, maybe) of your WIP do you think will draw people in?

I have a hero to antagonist arc that is essentially an exploration of grief following trauma and a toxic relationship. That is what I think will help my story stand out from other fantasy stories—the magic is really just an instrument that helps the characters heal. (That is the most boiled down explanation I can give.)

10. What are your hopes for your WIP?

I would love to query ToL by 2025 and have it published within the next few years. For right now, I just want more people to connect with the story and see it for what it can be one day.

1. What is the first part of your WIP that you created?

2. If your story was a TV show, what would the theme song/intro be?

3. What are your favorite characters that you made? Why?

4. What other pieces of media do you think your fan base would share?

5. What has been your biggest struggle with your WIP?

6. Are there any animals in your story? Talk about them!

7. How do your characters get around? (Ex. Trains, horses, cars, dragons, etc.)

8. What part of your WIP are you working on right now?

9. What aspects (tropes, maybe) of your WIP do you think will draw people in?

10. What are your hopes for your WIP?

#wip questionnaire #wip: tomb of light #tag games #fantasy writers #writers on tumblr

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therhythmafterthesummer · 1 year

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The Beginning of the End (M) ~Bang Chan

Pairing: Dokkaebi!Chan x Dragon!F.Reader Themes: Fantasy AU | Royalty AU | Established Relationship | Star-crossed Lovers | Smut | bit Angsty i’d say, all things considered… Warnings: written in Chan’s POV, mentions of war, graphic depictions of intercourse (smut warnings under the cut), they’re in love your honour... Word Count: ~2k | AO3 Summary: Whenever Chan held you in his arms again after spending long periods of time apart, he couldn’t help but feel selfish–and even a bit foolishly hopeful. [A sort of pt. 2 to Purple Flame].

Author’s Note: love me a fictional man that’s absolutely whipped for their significant other… they’re always the most fun to write. i’ve been in my feels for this couple these days… so here this is.

Due to all the abovementioned warnings, this story is intended for an adult audience only. Minors please do not interact.

Smut Warnings: unprotected penetration [piv], creampie (these two are using some form of unspecified birthcontrol, considering they’ve been fucking for years and she’s not pregnant. be careful irl tho)

Disclaimer: the story represented in this work does not represent Stray Kids in any way; anything described in this story and all actions performed by the characters are purely fictional, this was created just for good fun.

Chan had never truly been a heavy sleeper. The tiniest of noises, changes in temperature, or changes in lighting would often wake him up, any of those were usually the cause on easy nights. On harder nights, he’d wake up in a cold sweat, plagued by the screams in his head, by the nightmares that would recount time and time again all those horrors and all that suffering he’d had to endure the past six years.

Tonight, as he woke up with the tiny ticks of a clock, he realised three things.

One, that even if the moon was shining extra bright, the sky was still dark out.

Two, that he wasn’t in his room.

And three, that there was warmth at his back, that there was another person next to him.

His mind was clear enough to recognise his surroundings perfectly, just as it was to know who that person sleeping next to him was–especially so as memories from before he fell asleep flooded his mind as soon as he regained consciousness, memories of you. Of you, alive, and safe. Of you, warm, and soft. Of you, nude, and needy for his touch…

Stretching his legs a bit, the tiniest of groans left his mouth, quiet enough he hoped it wouldn’t wake you up. He shuffled in his place under the covers, finally turning around to come face to face with your sleeping form, taking his time to admire the sight of your bare back, now exposed as the duvet pooled around your waist, his eyes tracing the assortment of scars on your back and the ink you’ve gotten over the years.

You.

His little dragon that filled his heart with nothing but love and admiration. There was nothing Chan wanted more in this world right now than to finally get to live his life with you, without having to hide, without having to pretend, without having to be on high alert every day in case the enemy made a move, or on high alert to avoid the Dragon Queen or the Goblin King from discovering your little–more like huge…–secret.

Chan shuffled closer, sneaking his arm between your own so he could lay his hand on your chest, hooking his index finger under the silver chain that hung from your neck, the chain you wore religiously every day at all times, the chain that held the ring Chan himself had forged with his own blue fire. The ring of goblin obsidian that represented that promise he’d made to you all those years ago. The ring he wished you could wear on your finger, publicly, proudly, safely…

Pressing himself to your back, his whole body moulded to yours, essentially making you his warm little spoon, and he couldn’t help himself from taking in a deep breath, revelling in the scent of your shampoo filling his senses, that shampoo he himself had lathered into your hair right before you fell asleep. You stirred a bit, not fully awake yet, but you shuffled to further press yourself against him, mindlessly taking his hand in yours and clutching it tightly against your chest, and Chan’s heart soared with the gesture.

With a deep sigh, he came face to face with reality again.

He shouldn’t be here.

He should’ve left last night after he made sure you were safe and sound, but every time he got to reunite with you again after spending long periods of time in the field, it was simply getting harder and harder to part from you–to part from your care, to part from your love, to part from your warmth…

Chan had spent his entire life giving himself to others, as Crown Prince, as his father’s son, as the War Leader of the Goblin Children… He’d dedicated his life to others, never asking for anything in return. The only thing he ever wanted was to be with you, to share his love with you, and the fact that that, as his only wish, was essentially unattainable in the current circumstances of his life, had him seething more times than he would like to admit.

He’d missed you so much this past month that having you here right now in his arms almost felt like a dream. So much so, Chan really couldn’t help himself when he started to press soft, tender kisses on the exposed skin of your shoulder, selfishly letting himself enjoy the warmth of your skin against his lips.

“Mmm…” You leaned into his touch, your hold on his hand tightening as you pressed further against him. “You’re still here…”

Your voice was groggy, heavy with sleep, but it made him smile regardless, it reminded him that you were also here, with him. “I’m still here… Can’t find it in me to leave just yet”.

“Mm… Don’t want you to”, was all you mumbled back to him, bringing his hand close to your mouth and planting a soft kiss on the back of it. “Missed you…”

Chan knew you missed him. Not only because you had repeated those words to him time and time again when you met last night, just as his cock buried deep within your cunt, just as you hugged him close to you, murmuring those words on his skin just as he did the same, but also because he just knew you had missed him. Because you always did. “Missed you, too… So much”.

“Mm…”

You were silent for a while, just as Chan kept sporadically pressing kisses on your bare skin, just as he relished the soft caress of your thumb on his palm as you held his hand close to you. He’d stretch these moments as much as he could, etching them into his memory for him to latch onto when he had to go back to his crude reality.

“I love you, Chris. My dearest Goblin Child…” your voice was barely a whisper, but everything around you two was so quiet, so peaceful, there was no way Chan could’ve missed it.

His heart swelled, full of love, full of you, and his hold around you tightened. “I love you, too. My sweet little dragon…”

“Can’t wait for the day I get to call you my husband… For the day I no longer have to hide all this love I have for you in my heart…” Chan couldn’t help but smile against your skin. At times like these, when it was dark and quiet, when it almost felt like time wasn’t passing, you’d always let your feelings free, always professed your love completely unfiltered, always making him blush as if he hadn’t heard you say these things to him time and time again throughout the past six years.

“In my heart, you’re already my wife, darling”, Chan couldn’t help but chuckle, oddly amused by the entire exchange. He meant it, though. You were the sole owner of his heart, of his affections, you’d been for a long time now, and he wouldn’t have it any other way.

“Mm… Your wife…”

Chan loved to spend these moments of silence with you. They were comfortable, peaceful. But sometimes, after a while of that silence, he’d developed this habit of bringing you both back to reality, of reminding yourselves why you were dealing with the situation that you were, and he knew you hated it, but he could never stop himself.

“Today’s the big day, love…”

You took in a deep breath as soon as the words left his mouth, but you didn’t say anything. After a while, your hold on his hand relented, and you turned around, coming face to face with him, and by the Ancient Goblins if you weren’t the most beautiful sight… Just looking at you like this, even with only the moonlight filtering through the drapes to barely illuminate your features, had his heart fluttering.

“Indeed it is”, one of your hands came to cup his cheek, and Chan couldn’t stop himself from bringing his own to lay on top of yours, to hold your wrist in his hand as you softly traced circles on his skin.

Chan looked at you for a while, just taking in your features, taking in the face of the person he loved most in this world, and eventually, he couldn’t help but profess his love once again. “Love you…”

“Love you, too…” was all you said before your lips were on his, pressing soft, loving pecks that had his cheeks heating up and his heart thumping a bit faster in his chest.

With his hand moving away from yours to instead hold your waist briefly, only to finally sneak to the small of your back, pulling you flush to him, those seemingly innocent pecks quickly evolved into deep, hungry kisses that had Chan’s head spinning with how fast blood started to rush to his crotch as he kissed you just as hungry and eager and needy as you did.

Before he knew it, he was already on top of you, slotted between your legs, and easing himself within your tempting heat, right where he belonged, right where he wished he could stay for days on end. You held onto him tightly, kissing him slowly, but deeply, just as Chan kept that slow rhythm of his hips, making sure to enjoy as much of you as he could for as long as he could.

“Promise me, Chris…” You mumbled against his cheek as your legs wrapped around him, as your ankles interlocked to keep him as close to you as you could and your fingers threaded in his hair, tugging the strands gently. “Promise me you…” Your words came out slowly, slightly broken between soft moans as Chan fucked into you just how he knew you wanted him to, just how he wanted to. “You’ll try to be safe… That you’ll… try your best to live…”

“Promise…” Chan murmured, snapping his hips a bit faster, moving one of his hands to grip your thigh, eliciting quiet noises from your lips with the motion. “Want to live for you. Want to… spend the rest of my days with you, my love…”

With a slight tilt to his hips, Chan started to hit that exact area within your walls that had you throwing your head back in bliss, that had you struggling to keep yourself quiet, and your reactions had him struggling to keep himself quiet and steady. “Promise me, too, my dearest Dragon Child… That you’ll… you’ll live…”

“Promise… For you, Chris, my love, I… want to live”.

“Mm… My precious little dragon… Love you. In this life… and the next…”

Chan propped himself up a bit, just enough for you to sneak your dominant hand between your bodies, looking him right in the eyes as you started to draw circles on your clit. “In this life… and the next… My sweet Goblin Prince… My love… My life…”

With one final whimper, biting your lip to hold back on all those delicious sounds that would be too loud for the time of day, Chan felt your walls clenching with your release, the feeling, coupled with the words that came out of your mouth, had him snapping his hips harder, faster, chasing his own pleasure. And when he finally came, pumping you full of him, full of his seed, full of his love, he did so as he continued to profess his love to you with his lips pressed to your cheek, ‘I love you… I love you… Love you…’

Today was the day.

Today was the day the Firelands were going to finally strike Lyen directly.

Today was the day that would decide your fates.

Today was the day to end the war.

Chan was a realist, he never dwelled in false hopes, he was aware of how dangerous today’s task would be, how possibly fatal it could be for both of you. But right now, as he held you tightly in his arms, still buried as deep within you as he could, feeling himself going soft and his own release slowly trickling out from where your bodies connected, he could only hold onto that possibly delusional hope. He let himself believe for a moment that it would all be alright, that you’d both live, that you’d both finally get that future together that you so desperately needed, that you so rightfully deserved.

Tagging: @raspbinniecreme @staaa96 @oiminho @dundullresident @honey-lemon-goose @carefully325 If you want to be removed from the list just PM me. If you want to be added fill in this form~

Constructive feedback (or even keysmashes, really) is always welcome :)

#stray kids fantasy AU #bang chan smut #stray kids smut #stray kids fanfiction #bang chan fanfiction #chan smut #bang chan fic #bang chan x reader #chan x reader #skz fanfic #skz fanfiction #stray kids fanfic #✨🌙✏

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