#⋆ ˚｡𓅨⋆｡°

[mythblossoms]

cherry wine

pairing: sylus x gn!reader

content: mutual pining, slight angst, music used as metaphor (poorly), pre-relationship, hand holding and dancing

a/n: sometimes a specific scene sticks in your head and you have to write something around that only. i also just love the sound of a cello ;-;

wc: ~1.4k

Music was honest. It spoke plainly about its desires and was vulnerable. The melodies openly conveyed emotions and stories, imploring those who heard to succumb to their passions. There is a beauty in patterns and themes laced between the harmonies.

At the least, that’s what Sylus told himself as he leaned casually against the gilded pillars decorating the gala floor. 

Your invitation to some musicians gala hadn’t been unexpected - the connections and intel privy to him had become a bonus to your missions, and Sylus was happy to oblige. But your openness, that was new. Your willingness to reach out and discuss tactics and invite him as something more, more than a source of knowledge at least.

He was happy to watch you work, your acting skills so finely honed now as you smiled coyly at other guests perched at the bar - your eyes, in contrast, sharply focused on your surroundings. You were an unknown force in your element, poised to strike. 

The musicians began their arrangement, the opening notes notifying the guests of the story they aimed to tell.

The aching thrum of the cello, the pining glide of the violin - woven together to create a song of want, grounded by a repetition of keys played softly on the piano. Sylus knows the story that inspired the peaks and valleys of this piece - the undying devotion of some underworld god to his spring bride, the names long forgotten but the sentiments still clinging to the notes. For you, I will wait. For you, I will suffer time and space. 

His eyes find your form across the gala floor. You, so warmly illuminated by the overhead chandeliers, cherry wine in hand and the pomegranate stain of your lips. Would you also eat the seeds — if offered? Would you stay — if asked? Your eyes flicked to his, offering a near imperceptible nod in his direction. For you, he would ask again and again.

The low lament of the cello hums through the room as your eyes leave his, searching the faces of each passerby as you swirl the untouched wine. Reasonably, Sylus knows that once you’ve completed your mission, you’ll be gone again. And he will wait again, until he is needed, until you are ready. The constant refrain his own frustrating internal melody - wait, wait, wait — again, again, again. He did not have the patience of some ancient god, and the yearning notes of the song left a sour taste in his mouth. 

As the music swells, melodic and mournful, Sylus finds himself pulled to you. He moves across the floor slowly, yet purposefully, eyes never leaving your face. 

“Dance with me.” Sylus offers his open palm to you, an open invitation, the corner of his mouth lifting into a slight smirk. 

You swirl the wine again in your glass, watching as the dark red liquid briefly coats the glass before settling. “Do you always ask people to dance to tragic love songs?” you mused, placing the glass on the bar. It’s easy, like this, pretending to be two strangers drawn together by the fervor of the strings. The hunger of their pitch echoing the feeling in your chest. 

“There’s a - sincerity to tragedy that makes it more memorable.” And for a moment, he seems far away, some distant memory clinging to the edge of his vision before he’s raising an eyebrow at you again.

“People will think you’re some sort of brooding crow.” You tease and gently take his hand, letting him guide you to the near empty floor.

“Do you think I care what people think, sweetheart?” Sylus smirks again, lightly holding your hand in one and splaying his other across your lower back. He pulls you in closer, chests nearly touching as he leans in closely. “I’m more interested in what your eyes see.” His warm breath sends a jolt of electricity down your spine. 

Logically, you think he means finding your target. Your vantage point from the center of the room certainly allows you to see more faces than you could from your singular place at the bar. And yet - the gentle way he holds your hand, the warm touch on your lower back, the softness in his eyes as he searches yours - you consider the outcomes of being bold, of being honest. 

Your hand flattens against the base of his neck, a thrum of energy flowing between the closeness of your bodies - your eyes fixed solely on his. “I’m not sure I’ve seen enough to make an informed decision.” The air stills around you, time seemingly frozen in this moment as the energy between you intensifies, the magnification of something bigger than both of you. “I’ll keep looking though.” 

The far away look returns to his eyes, his brow furrowing slightly - unexpressed sentiments hanging in the air. The instruments die down, the lack of sound somehow deafening in your ears, and Sylus slowly releases your waist - breaking the chord that hummed so loudly between you. 

Before you can step away, he captures your hand in both of his. Delicately, he lifts your palm to his lips and presses a light kiss in the center, holding your gaze before fully releasing you. Your palm tingles with warmth as you squeeze your hand shut, tucking it at your side. “Careful - don’t look too far or you may lose sight of what you're searching for.” His words feel ambiguous, leaving you sifting through context and emotion, the two swirling together as he steps closer. “On your right,” he murmurs before casually walking towards the exit. 

This is why pretending is easier, why leaving is easier - even when you knew you would come back. Staying meant confronting whatever ambiguity grasped onto each look or word between you and Sylus. Leaving granted space, a moment to breathe. Exhaling, you locked onto the man on your right, surrounded by others clinging onto whatever syrupy words he spun. Leaving meant gaining some control of this situation.

Sylus did not have the patience of long forgotten gods, but he did have their petulance. Standing at the end of the long hallway, shrouded in the shadow of a pillar - surely this is the type of brooding expected of a deity. 

Twice you managed to catch him in a moment. Twice, a fleeting sense of clarity that was quickly broken once he realized his surroundings and the scenario you both were in. You had truly looked at him this time, as if you could see each miniscule crack that deepened each moment spent together then apart. He felt a seismic shift beneath layers of protection he had spent so many years building up. The notes of the cello reverberated through Sylus’s mind, blending with his internal symphony - wait, wait, wait, for you. He had no clear path forward to you, no seeds to offer you - only the notes of song urging patience.

Footsteps interrupted his ruminations, the sound resonating down the hall moving closer to him. He doesn’t need to look up to know it’s you, the familiar determination underneath the light sound - letting you come to him. “Caught what you needed, kitten?” The teasing nickname falls easily from his lips, but he’s searching your face again - looking for something, anything to flicker across your face. Your determined mask remains in place and you’re barely slowing down as you pass him — leaving again.

“His notes were…off-key,” you state plainly, stepping out into the cool night air. Sylus huffs a laugh in response, bad intel. “But not a total loss, he had some interesting friends. Guess I’ll have to look closer.” There’s a subtle curtness to your voice, dismissive even, as you navigate the city street - Sylus still trailing behind.

“Be patient,” he almost bites out, the irony not lost on him. “True motives always reveal themselves, in the end.” 

You stopped abruptly in front of him, turning to face him with a boldness he’d grown fond of. “And if I’m not patient?” Your words are clear, daring to hold his gaze. “What if I’m impulsive?”

“The power is in your hands then - you have to decide how you want to proceed.” Another dance, another song — laced with hidden meanings. Your eyes soften slightly - were you playing the same tune? Did you understand the notes played under his words? Sylus extends his hand to you again, palm open and still. “For now, let’s get you home.”

You smile lightly, the corners of your lips slightly turned up. “It’s early for you - isn’t it?” You take his hand, gently lacing your fingers with his. “Why don’t you take me on the scenic route?” 

[ravenloop]

I LOVE the piece you did with god of war freyr! could I request headcanons on how he'd try woo the reader? especially if they keep accidentally friend zoning him!

>Oblivious reader is officially one of my favourite things to write lol

>Pairings: Freyr x reader

>WARNINGS!: None

𓅨

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Headcannons: Freyr trying to win your affection

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

— Freyr is absolutely the biggest player known and you cannot tell me otherwise. He's definitely been with countless of partners, and who could blame them?! He's Freyr.

— That being said, despite him being a player, he definitely falls for you. And he falls hard. I don't mean that metaphorically either, when he first met you he stared so hard he tripped face-first into the mud.

— You're the most beautiful being he's ever laid his eyes on, perfect in every way, like you were made from the very roots of Yggdrasil. And he's not shy, he tells you that straight to your face with the stupidest expression ever—he thinks he looks handsome.

— But that stupid smirk is wiped right off his face when, instead of flirting back like you were obviously supposed to do, you just tell him "Thank you!" with that gorgeous smile and walk away.

— Really? He just called you one of the most poetic things he could think of and you're going to just say thank you?! Whatever, he brushes it off and decides that he wasn't trying hard enough.

— He continues with using sweet words and compliments, buttering you up nicely with "You're looking extra radiant today" or "I love your voice", simple things. When you once again just thank him before walking away, he can feel his eye twitching. Nevermind. Perhaps it's time to take things a step further.

— If he had Ingrid at the time, he'd definitely try and gift it to you, only to be ultimately halted by Freya with a smack. He's definitely tried it with other woman in the past (and Odin).

— He starts bringing you things back from when he goes on missions every so often. They'd range from beaded necklaces to flowers he placed in your hair to jewels he found in some hidden chest. It buffs up his ego when he sees you wearing it most of the time.

— You're also the first person he talks to when he returns to camp, first person to hear the details about what he saw while out. Majority of his time in camp he spends with you. If you're ever sent out on missions, he'd try to come with you, and if he can't then he'll just send someone trusted with you.

— By now it's painfully obvious he's fawning over you like a young mortal man. Everyone in the camp can see it, everyone but the one person he wants to see it: you. As dreadful as it was to witness, everyone in camp found it too funny to really step in and help either side out.

— Up to this point he really tried to make his hints obvious, and he's sure there's no way they could be more out in the open than they already are. Eventually he gets fed up when you turned down another advance of his and just straight out yells his feelings.

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"I LOVE YOU, DAMMIT!" "Oh. As a friend or...?"

[boypupp]

The Morrigan 𓅨

[scealaiscoite]

⋆˚࿔ build-a-fic 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

➴ chose a line of dialogue, an emotion and a setting (a number, letter, + a creature), and write/request to your heart’s content!

𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ a piece of dialogue

꒰ 1 ꒱ “i can’t fucking believe this.”

꒰ 2 ꒱ “what they said back there. is it true?”

꒰ 3 ꒱ “it’s not safe here anymore- we need to leave. now!”

꒰ 4 ꒱ “you know how much i care about you.”

꒰ 5 ꒱ “they’re never going to hurt you again.”

꒰ 6 ꒱ “here, let’s get you warmed up.”

꒰ 7 ꒱ “i didn’t do it. please, you have to believe me!”

꒰ 8 ꒱ “i’m taking you home, and that’s that.”

꒰ 9 ꒱ “do you trust me?”

꒰ 10 ꒱ “i can’t sleep either. mind if i join you?”

꒰ 11 ꒱ “you’re not your worst mistake.”

꒰ 12 ꒱ “try and eat, if you can. it’ll make you feel better.”

꒰ 13 ꒱ “i say this with all the love in my heart, but you look like shit.”

꒰ 14 ꒱ “they’re going to surround us. we need to get ready.”

꒰ 15 ꒱ “i need you to leave.”

꒰ 16 ꒱ “we can’t be seen together like this. not anymore.”

꒰ 17 ꒱ “it’s dangerous. i need you to know that before you agree.”

꒰ 18 ꒱ “it’s just one night- surely sharing a bed for that long won’t kill us.”

꒰ 19 ꒱ “it’s getting dark, we should think about heading back.”

꒰ 20 ꒱ “what have i told you about coming here?!”

𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ an emotion

꒰ A ꒱ disdain

꒰ B ꒱ grief

꒰ C ꒱ ecstasy

꒰ D ꒱ disbelief

꒰ E ꒱ anxiety

꒰ F ꒱ contentment

꒰ G ꒱ drunkenness

꒰ H ꒱ enjoyment

꒰ I ꒱ confusion

꒰ J ꒱ fear

꒰ K ꒱ hunger

꒰ L ꒱ relief

꒰ M ꒱ distrust

꒰ N ꒱ fondness

꒰ O ꒱ delight

꒰ P ꒱ hurt

꒰ Q ꒱ love

꒰ R ꒱ sickness

꒰ S ꒱ exhaustion

꒰ T ꒱ betrayal

𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ a setting

꒰ 𓆉 ꒱ the corner bed in a hospital ward

꒰ 𓅨 ꒱ a spare bedroom

꒰ 𓆣 ꒱ an alleyway behind a dive bar

꒰ 𓃰 ꒱ a mountainside shrouded in fog

꒰ 𓃗 ꒱ a skeevy motel just off the highway

꒰ 𓃱 ꒱ a barren industrial plant in the middle of nowhere

꒰ 𓃟 ꒱ the lush, indulgent foyer of a member’s only club

꒰ 𓆟 ꒱ the war room of a military blacksite

꒰ 𓆈 ꒱ the produce aisle of a 24/7 supermarket

꒰ 𓅫 ꒱ the bedside of someone who doesn’t want you there

꒰ 𓅟 ꒱ the walk-in fridge of a failing restaurant

꒰ 𓃵 ꒱ a rickety old barn’s hayloft

꒰ 𓃓 ꒱ at work, far later than you should be

꒰ 𓆌 ꒱ a stranger’s bed at dawn

꒰ 𓆏 ꒱ an airplane hanger

꒰ 𓅭 ꒱ a medical bay that stinks of antiseptic and fear

꒰ 𓆗 ꒱ the kitchen of a derelict house

꒰ 𓃢 ꒱ the dressing room of a luxury department store

꒰ 𓆧 ꒱ the place where grassy plains meet desert dunes

꒰ 𓃔 ꒱ a beach at low tide

[himbodruid]

Caught In The Act

Sylus x Reader

You took advantage of Sylus being away on business to use his bathtub for some…personal time. What you didn’t account for is Sylus arriving home early

Improper use of evol -:- strip tease Sylus -:- wrist binding

🔞 INTENDED FOR 18+ READERS. MINORS DNI 🔞

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𓅨⋆｡°⭑ ✮ ⋆ ˚｡𓅨⋆｡°✩⭑

It sucked. Sylus was away from the N109 Zone on business, and now you had nobody to annoy. Even Luke and Kieran made themselves scarce, leaving you to cause your own solo chaos in Sylus’s house.

You had a three day weekend, and so far you’ve moved most of his furniture three inches to the left. But that was the extent of your creativity when it came to pranks.

Now you were bored again, and sweaty from your shenanigans with Sylus’s furniture. You snickered to yourself while filling Sylus’s massive tub with hot water and fragrant bubbles. Imagining the leader of Onychinus not understanding why he was suddenly bumping into everything gave you a special kind of joy.

You never dared to use this tub during previous visits. In fact, Sylus’s rooms had been off limits to you since the brooch incident. Not because he barred you, but for your own personal reasons. The allure that surrounded that infuriating man like an aura was dangerous, almost as dangerous as he was.

The danger never stopped you from daydreaming about him, of course. That aura only attracted you to him like a moth to a flame. Even when you first met him, you couldn’t help but wonder how good it would feel to have his massive hands on you. And now that his presence was becoming a permanent part of your life, you often wondered about more.

The hot water engulfed you as you sank below the surface, quickly washing your hair and then resurfacing. The sting felt incredible on sore muscles, and you relaxed against the rim with a contented sigh. You closed your eyes and let your mind drift, wondering how often Sylus used this tub. Once, you’d snuck into his room while he was showering to find that damned brooch. And even though he was mostly hidden by the steam, you still got quite the eyeful. Powerful. Invigorating. Beautiful. There were many words you could use to describe him, but you’d never dare to tell him to his face. His ego would probably be insufferable.

You hated to admit that you were attracted to him; to the smooth way he commanded any situation, to the lopsided smirk he often wore around you, all the way to his godsdamned voice. It wasn’t anything wrong with him, no. Your refusal to admit attraction came down to your own foolish pride. That, and you were scared of losing his friendship, of losing your friendship with the twins. The relationship with all three of them was still so new, and you were all too willing to put your own desires aside to keep them in your life.

Which is why what you were about to do would never leave the room. It would be between you and the tiles with none the wiser.

Your hands drifted down your body, imagining it to be his, feeling every curve and valley. Would he appreciate your body, this weapon that you honed through rigorous training? You thought so. You certainly had appreciation for his.

You let out a dramatic little gasp when your fingers found the apex of your thighs. Biting your lower lip with a sly smile spread across your face, imagining that it was Sylus’s elegant fingers dipping into your folds. You thought about his voice, about the rumbling timbre of it, how sexy the grit of it was when he talked to you.

Your heartbeat thundered in your ears as you circled your clit, imagining all the ways you wished Sylus would take you. All the ways you wanted to take him. Your shuddering breath filled the room, echoing off the tile, while you brought yourself closer to the edge. You ran your free hand across your breasts, tugging at your nipples for added stimulation while your body squirmed for more that you couldn’t give it.

His name fell from your lips with a strangled cry. You circled faster, riding out the thrumming release and hoping to make it more than what it was. You finally gave up, only succeeding in making yourself feel somehow even less sated than when you started. Your body hummed with need, but you were too much of a coward to even think about approaching Sylus- not that you even knew how to go about it to begin with. Instead, you would just have to make do with your fantasies and the gnawing disappointment after each unsatisfying climax.

With a wistful sigh, you pulled yourself from the bath and wrapped yourself in a large fluffy towel. You’d thought about finding one of his robes to wrap yourself in, but remembered most of what he had was for lounging and not for bathing. With the tub draining, you grabbed a smaller towel and began to rub at your hair to begin the arduous process of drying it.

“Enjoying yourself, Kitten?”

Startled, you screamed and spun, throwing your hair towel towards the direction of his voice. He didn’t even move to bat it away like you expected. Instead, he let it hit his face with a hearty chuckle.

“Sylus!” You admonish shrilly, willing your thundering heart to calm, while he just casually removed the towel from his face and held it to his nose. With an embarrassed huff, you ignored your state of undress, gathered your discarded clothes and made your escape. His bulk blocked most of the doorframe, but he didn’t move and you had to squeeze past him.

Right as you breached the door, he tugged at your wrist and spun you so your back was against the wall. You dropped the bundle of clothes you were carrying and looked up at him with wide eyes. Leaning on a forearm above your head, he toyed with the wet ends of your hair.

“You didn’t answer my question, kitten. That’s alright, though, because I already know you enjoyed yourself very much.”

“Wha- when did you get back?” You stammer, a blush spreading across your cheeks with mounting horror. There was no way…

“A while ago,” he chuckled, mischief sparkling in his eyes. “I thought to surprise you, but you gave me quite the surprise of your own.”

“Oh gods,” you whine, looking away.

“If I’d known how fond of me you were, I would have come home much sooner.”

“H-how much did you hear?” You were afraid of the answer, and you clenched your eyes closed in a grimace.

“Enough,” he chuckled. He plucked at the part of the towel that was folded in on itself, the part that kept it from falling off your body. He watched you, gauging your expression and your willingness. When you didn’t push him away, he leaned in and…oh, fuck. His lips on yours felt incredible, more than you ever dared to dream, more than you ever dared to hope. The kiss went from slow and testing to hungry and devouring in a matter of seconds.

His hot mouth blazed a trail down your neck, his tongue chasing a water droplet and dipping into the hollow of your throat. Beautifully deft fingers traced your skin along the edge of the towel in feather-light touches that sent shivers through you. His attentions made you bold, and you reached up to unravel the towel, but held it close to your body until Sylus gave pause. He pulled back, eyes locked onto yours while he awaited your silent consent. You were lost to him when you let the towel drop.

Your heart thundered in your chest, like a bird fluttering against your ribcage, as doubt and anxiety swept through you. He kept his eyes on yours for only a moment more before letting his gaze roam your body. The slow perusal sent bolts of heat to your core, and it took vast amounts of effort not to squirm under his scrutiny. His silence as those crimson eyes raked over every curve set you on edge, at least until you detected a hint of a blush beginning at his ears.

“Beautiful,” he purred almost reverently. And then this giant of a man, the leader of Onychinus, sunk to his knees in front of you. The sight of him in his riding leathers, knelt in front of you and peering up at you with a predatory glint to his eye did unholy things to you. When he shuffled your feet apart and moved in closer, you felt like your knees would buckle. Even sitting back on his heels, his face still easily reached your torso. It was no wonder he commanded the room whenever he walked in.

“Tsk, tsk, so swollen, Kitten,” he tutted, gaze resting on the apex of your thighs. His hands, still encased in fingerless gloves, skirted up your legs, under your thighs and then…oh…oh gods. The pad of one of his thumbs pressed against your swollen bud, teasing you. The sharp intake of breath you gave him only made him smirk more.

“No matter, sweetheart, I can make it better,” he purred before leaning in. Eyes locked on yours, he nestled his face right in and replaced his thumb with his tongue. Leaning heavily against the wall was the only way you were able to remain standing, hands balling into fists at your side. You were so intently focused on the way his mouth lathed at you that you didn’t notice his arms snaking around the backs of your thighs from the inside. Then his hands were resting on your hips and he hauled you upwards just enough that your legs were now fully supported on his broad shoulders. Your hands gripped his and you bit your lip to try and contain the sounds threatening to escape.

But fuck, the way he used his tongue, stroking you with it in between suckling kisses. You were glad for the support, because the moment he slipped that sinful tongue between your slicked folds, your legs would have collapsed. You let your head fall back against the wall, finally letting the moans tumble from you unrestrained. You squirmed, trying to buck against his mouth, but he held fast to you and continued working at you until you came to a shuddering end much more intense than the one you had by yourself in the bath. Hands gripped into his hair, you held him there, riding him out until the fluttering of your walls subsided.

It was the first time in a long time that you felt sated like this, but glancing down at his face told you he was far from done with you. Mischief still glittered in his eyes and a lopsided smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. He let your legs fall from his shoulders, but made sure to hold you steady while he stood. You were grateful, since the moment your feet touched the ground, your knees threatened to buckle.

“Hmm, what should I do with you,” he chuckled, dipping his head to kiss you so that you could taste yourself on his lips. “It seems a little unfair that you only moan my name when touching yourself.”

With that, he lifted you easily into his arms, mouth colliding with yours again. He carried you to the bed and then dropped you into the center of it, stepping back and observing you for a second.

And then he gave you that devilish smirk while wisps of his evol snaked around your ankles. The black and crimson shadows solidified the further they crept up your legs, and you were certain you could feel his touch in them. The sensations made you squirm and gasp. They crept further and further until they wrapped solidly around your thighs and then-

You sucked in a gasp when you felt the shadows nudge at your clit, circling it like Sylus had with his mouth just moments before. With a chuckle at your reaction, he began to slowly undress himself while keeping his eyes locked to yours.

First his gloves came off, then he shrugged out of his jacket, the leather dropping heavily onto the floor. Your eyes drank in the skin tight black shirt he wore, raking over the hills and valleys of his torso. It was cut off at the shoulder, allowing for you to see the muscles of his arms unobstructed. He was so unbearably beautiful, and you couldn’t believe this was happening.

You tried to bring your thighs together to put pressure where you wanted, but the strands of darkness held fast to you with surprising strength. So, you brought your hand down in an attempt to circle your clit faster, or even maybe add a finger or two. But his shadows shot to your wrists and yanked them above your head.

“Sylus,” you whined, squirming in the grip of his evol.

“Ah-ah-ah,” he admonished with a chuckle, tugging his shirt off and tossing it aside. “You only get to watch. Let me handle the rest.”

At his words, you felt the swell of his power, the intensity of the shadows clinging to you growing. And then it shifted, sinking into your slicked folds, that swirling energy stroking you as thoroughly as his tongue did. You arch your back, a gasp falling from your lips as your eyes fluttered closed.

“Eyes on me, Kitten,” Sylus commanded with purr. You forced your gaze back to him, watching him unbuckling his belt. He took his time removing his leathers, enjoying the way your eyes widened when he was finally bared to you. He took himself in hand, his cock already standing at attention while he stroked himself. Each slow stroke was punctuated by a surge of his shadows invading you. Those shadows were just a promise of what was to come.

“Sylus,” you beg, unable to form the words to tell him what you wanted. All you could do was squirm and whimper while spread open in front of him. He chuckled, but finally crawled up onto the bed. The weight of his shadows was replaced by him, all of them dissipating except the ones holding your wrists above your head. He blazed a trail of open mouthed kisses up your body before devouring your mouth for a brief, heart-stopping moment.

He sat back on his heels, his large hand skirting down your body, followed closely by his heated gaze. Shivers coursed through you and settled in your core at the hunger that was so openly evident in his expression. His hands settled on your hips, pulling you firmly into him.

“Are you ready, sweetheart?” His voice rumbled through you as a velvet purr, eliciting shivers of anticipation. He notched his cock against your entrance, and then pushed into you with a slow roll of his hips. The feel of his shadows was nothing compared to the way he filled you. Agonizingly slow strokes made your breath hitch. It was so much more than you could’ve ever dreamed, the way his cock dragged along your walls as he pulled and pushed. Definitely better than your own imagination.

“Good girl,” he breathed, his eyes fluttering closed with a groan. “You take me so well, Kitten.”

He shifted his grip so that your legs were hooked over his arms, allowing him to pull you into each of his methodic thrusts. His pace was unhurried, relishing in the sensations each stroke gave. He watched you, taking in your reactions and tilting his head with a sly smirk. You knew your face was heated, but there was no way for you to hide your blush with your wrists still bound.

“S-Sy-“ you whined, squirming in hopes of finding more friction. The torturously slow pace was turning your brain to mush. Your body trembled, gasping breaths puffing from you on whimpered moans. Sylus enjoyed every moment of it, taking pleasure in watching you shudder through each languid stroke.

“That’s more like it,” he crooned when his name began falling from your lips in a throaty pant. He buried himself in you to the hilt, his thrusts taking on a sharper jerk. He barely pulled from you before slamming forward again, granting delicious friction against your clit each time his hips collided with yours. And the gravelly quality of his moans reaching your ears with every thrust, fuck. This was so much more than you ever thought it would be.

Sylus let his head fall back, rocking into you with a steady pace that began to increase in velocity. His moans grew less breathy and more guttural with every strike of his cock against your innermost walls. You watched his body ripple and shudder, watched his muscles bunch and release, watched as his chest began to heave the more he dove into the pleasure.

With his concentration wavering, you were able to free your hands and reach for him. You pulled him down over you, digging your nails into his back while he aggressively rolled his hips into you. His moans, deep and guttural, were now panted against your neck between biting kisses.

Faster and harder, he slammed into you when playfulness died and something more primal took over. You clung to him, arms and legs wrapped around him and your mouth latched onto the slope of his neck. You marked him in multiple places, seeing those purpling spots on his skin sending a thrill through you. Mine, something deep in you claimed him as thoroughly as he claimed you.

Every skillful tilt of his hips as he pistoned in and out of you sent shockwaves of pleasure through you. He brought you right to the precipice and then ushered you over it without pause. The fluttering and trembling of your walls around him, gripping him relentlessly, pulled him over the edge with you. With a harsh growl, he forced himself from you and spilled against your stomach. His lips finally found yours, crashing into you with evident need while his cock twitched and pulsed against you. Deep breaths shuddered through him, through you, as you both came down from the high of release.

“Beautiful,” he murmured as he nuzzled into your neck. Your hands carded through the feather-soft strands of his hair, reveling in the feel of the silky strands against your fingers. You couldn’t help it, you just needed to touch him after months of holding back.

“I could say the same about you,” you reply. He chuckled and pulled back, kissing the inside of your wrist before sitting up again. His eyes raked down your body, a growl of approval escaping him as he flattened his hand against your stomach and spread the mess he made there. You were acutely aware that he was still hard as ever, resting hot and heavy against your pelvis. You couldn’t even be embarrassed anymore at being spread before his greedy gaze.

“Now that my affections are clearer, you don’t need to sneak around. The only time I want to hear you moaning my name is when you’re with me- whether my tongue or my cock is buried in you,” he said, his voice still husky with the promise of things to come.

“Is that a threat?” You asked teasingly.

“A promise,” he chuckled. You smirked up at him, slowly snaking your hand down your body.

“What if I wanted to test that?” You say, feigning innocence. You touched yourself, right there under his narrowing gaze, sighing his name with breathy moans as you circled your clit. He watched that smirk play on your face again, a pretty little blush spreading on his cheeks. It was meant to be nothing more than a tease.

But then a predatory smirk danced across his face and he struck. He slammed himself into you, burying to the hilt with a brutal thrust that ripped a climax from you without so much as a warning. You threw your head back with a harsh cry, body arching off the bed as he held your hips to him. You tried to twist away from him, to escape the pleasure that vibrated through you, but he held fast to you.

And then he toyed with your overstimulation, his hips snapping into you with rapid sharp thrusts. He was thoroughly enjoying all the various sounds that erupted from you and each time you screamed his name, it send an electric jolt through him. He quickened the pace, driving into you and wrenching pleasured cries from you over and over. Your brain was mush and your limbs trembled as wave after wave crashed into you. And when he tried to pull from you to spill himself against your stomach again, you clamped your legs around him and forbade him. You would have all the time later to explain how the association provided specialized birth control, but at that moment you wanted him as deep as he could go.

With a strangled curse, he obeyed and plunged as deep as he could. The twitching pulse of his cock sent you into yet another spiral that had you arching off the bed. Fuck, but he felt incredible when he came in you, and you knew you would never be able to touch yourself again without the visceral need to have him buried deep in you.

“That is…so not fair,” you pant against him once your ardor cooled enough to let you think. He chuckled and bundled you in his arms, rolling so he laid beside you without a care to the mess you were making of the sheets. Exhaustion washed over you, and with no wonder. You were pretty sure you did enough exercise that day to last you the week- between tackling furniture and then being tackled by Sylus.

“I did try to warn you,” he said, brushing a strand of hair from your face and kissing you tenderly; first your lips, then your forehead. You closed your eyes, feeling sleep tugging at you.

Sylus left the bed, much to your disgruntlement, but returned a short while later. You danced at the edge of unconsciousness but could feel him swiping a soft, damp cloth along your body. Later, you would realize he’d been cleaning you up, so that he wouldn’t have to drag you out of bed for a shower. But sleep took you swiftly the moment he laid back down and pulled you into his warm embrace.

Over the course of the next several weeks, you were disappointed to find that Sylus was much more keenly aware of his surroundings than you gave him credit for. He never once mentioned the furniture prank to you, but he also didn’t mention it to the twins.

“Why do we keep running into everything?!” This became a daily exclamation, one that would have you hiding your laughter behind your hand. They never suspected that it wasn’t their sense of surrounding that was failing, but that their surroundings had actually changed.

One particular fit from the twins had you making eye contact with Sylus, and the two of you bursting into laughter once the twins left the room.

They weren’t at all your intended victim, but you were happy your prank didn’t go to waste.

[navillee]

I need to talk about sub Sylus. I got the mental NEED to go against the grain and spread the word, so here I am.

All lads' men can be subs. You guys aren't seeing it cause you vision what a sub should be is restricted.

Sub Sylus 𓅨

an Introduction

Sylus has so much potential as a sub and you all are committing the nastiest sin for ignoring that possibility;

I'm gonna say that once: all that facade he proudly polished being the Onychinus leader is just to hide the fact that he's a finsub. And probably a SAM too;

Let me elaborate to the people who also knew he was into something but couldn't figure it out. Sylus doesn't fit what most people consider the standard for a submissive men is, but that doesn't mean that he's automatically a dom, or that the things making Sylus eyes spark – quite literally – are approaches reserved to doms only;

First of all, it is clear he's a finsub. Finsub is a shortcut to 'financial sub', and the term explains itself. I'm 100% sure that as soon as you enter the N109 zone, he was already requesting a credit card for your use exclusively. It didn't get delivered in time. That's why he landed his at the protocore auction;

"5 million. You offer will make people think I'm broke. Wouldn't want that, sweetie." That line alone explains everything, on top of he only sounding satisfied when you bought every protocore there;

He loves showing off to others how healthy he is and how no other but him is suitable to spoil his dom miss hunter;

Did you ever notice he's always spoiling you? Dresses, high-quality protocore-based weapons, week dates to expensive and exclusive restaurants, jewelry, even a private fireworks show. Luke and Kieran are always running down to Linkon to deliver you something new in the middle of the week because Sylus can't wait the entire week. He never can;

Sylus gets off watching his bank account movement as you spend his money. As higher the spent, better his orgasm;

You can spend all you want, but he made sure to request that every time you wish to buy a new set o lingerie, he could give his humble opinion on it;

On top of that, he always gives you hints about what he wants you to use on him. That's why you had to stop opening your message app on the hunter's association computer browser: Sylus can send you links to a new sex toy any time during the day. As I told you before, he can never wait properly;

"They made an exclusive high-quality leather collar craved in rubies." *sends the link of the N109 zone's craftsman* "Wouldn't that match my eyes, mistress hunter?"

It's a matter of three days wait to receive the said collar at your apartment's door. That's Sylus way to make you visit his mansion;

And THATS when his other side bloom. The SAM sub side. 'SAM' is also a shortcut that stands for a combination from "pain slut" and a brat. Sylus is both;

I mean, come on, he made you shoot him, and since the evol resonance failed, he acted like a desperate brat. When he noticed that his behavior was making you dislike him, Sylus noticed that it was better to show his freaky side little by little, to not scare his darling away from him;

But he couldn't even if he wanted to. You two are attached to levels that neither of you can actually understand. He knows that, and he wants to explore his desires with you because they're made to suit yours. He knows that deep inside, you want to devour him as much as he wants to feel the pain;

Is that threatening feeling that makes his eyes sparkle in blood red. That's why there's this push-pull dynamic happening with him. It's because he's desperately trying to bring out your dom side;

That's when the second name he refers about you appears. "Miss hunter," "mistress hunter," is just the surface level of Sylus as a sub;

It's when "ma'am" slips out his mouth that you know you have this man on your hands. And "ma'am" isn't "mommy." There's a substantial difference between them. That's why every sub is different;

As an example, let's use another lads man as an example: Rafayel. Rafayel is the type of sub that refers to you as "mommy." From his behavior to his tone of voice, his "mommy's" melodic calls are a meeting awaited for centuries, it's a sign of obedience, an eager plea for guidance to a comfort place where he doesn't have to worry anymore;

Sylus "ma'ams" are pleas for destruction. He wants more, and he wants harder;

"Yes ma'am. Can you do it harder? Fuck! I need it harder!"

You're entropy to his universe. As you two reach the chaos together in a complex dance of testing the others' nerves, more alive he feels.

He teases, and he teases way too much. You should always keep attention to his body signs cause he's reckless when there's a collar around his neck. When he watches the rubies of his now favorite collar shining on the mirror, all he wants is to you to break him;

Put a pretty gag on his convinced smile. He doesn't want praises, so when he starts drooling slut him out. Watch Sylus getting hard with your condescending tone. He will keep mumbling back cause he wants more;

Force him on his knees, kick his legs spread apart, and pull his hair back. The face of eagerness approval he will give you is gonna be priceless;

Slap his skin, face with your hands, thighs, and ass with the so commented good leather toys he bought. Do that every time he shows himself unable to keep his damm hands on the handcuffs;

Rip his skin with your nails. It isn't like he gives you other options. When Sylus notices you're scratching him, he will find a way to piss you off. "I thought your nails are sharper than that," "a kitten can't scratch it like tiger after all, shouldn't put my expectations too high." Watch him hiss and arch as you paint his torso with thin red fillets of his ripped sensitive skin;

I think he's also okay with spit, especially on his mouth;

He is large and tough. He can take anything, and I mean ANYTHING you give it to him;

Shove a vibrator right on prostate and keep pumping his cock, test him to see how much he can handle until he breaks;

Because when he, in fact, breaks, there's nothing left but a dumb slut that can only mumble unconnected words – swearing disconnected sentences in its great majority;

When you finish with him, he will be a mess, head too cloudy to think as you take care of his bruises;

Isn't it like you could prevent him from walking around with little to no fabric on his torso inside the house. He's definitely an exhibitionist. Those are bruises worthy to show of, anyway, he likes seeing himself in the mirror with them, it feels right;

As he watch them fade away, it is just a matter of time for him until he starts to get on your nerves again, to make your obscene art on his skin and on his mind.

[cewwart]

venti redesign with a crow/raven motif twist!!!!

𓅨₊˚⊹♡⊹ ࣪ ˖

timelapse on my tiktok!!!!

[sushiyuzu]

accidental hand touches 𓅨

sylus x reader

you sit beside sylus at the table, going over the plans for the next mission. the tension in the room is thick with focus, both of you deep in thought as you study the map in front of you. the air between you is quiet, save for the soft rustle of papers and the occasional murmur of conversation.

"we’ll need to take this route," you say, pointing at a section of the map, your finger hovering over the worn paper.

without thinking, sylus reaches for the same spot, his hand brushing against yours. the moment is so quick that it takes both of you by surprise. his fingers are warm, the brief contact enough to send a soft spark through your skin.

for a moment, neither of you move. your hand is still against his, his larger one resting gently over yours. it’s not intentional, not planned, but the feeling of his skin against yours makes your heart race just a little faster.

you glance up, and for a split second, your eyes meet his. sylus, usually composed and distant, looks down at your hand before his lips twitch into the smallest, almost imperceptible smile. it’s not the typical cold smirk you’ve seen before—this one is softer, quieter, as if he’s amused by the accidental intimacy of the moment.

“sorry,” he murmurs, pulling his hand back, but there’s no tension in his voice. instead, it’s calm, almost playful. you notice the way his red eyes linger on you for just a beat longer than necessary before he focuses back on the map, as if trying to regain his usual professional demeanour.

"no problem," you manage to reply, your voice a little quieter than you intended. your fingers tingle where his had touched, and you’re certain your face must be a little flushed, though you try not to show it.

for a few minutes, the two of you return to discussing the mission, but the atmosphere has subtly changed. it’s still professional, still focused, but there’s a warmth between you now, like a shared secret neither of you needs to acknowledge out loud.

when your hands move toward the map again, you’re both more careful this time, but the memory of the touch lingers. you steal a glance at sylus, and catch him looking at you from the corner of his eye, the faintest hint of amusement still playing on his lips. he doesn’t say anything, but that almost-smile stays with you, even long after the moment has passed.

[tndo]

Wanted to draw my icon 𓅨

[muqingslover]

M A S T E R L I S T

Last time updated: 02/04/2025

ALL THE LADS MEN OR MULTI.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 LADS men and a break-up.

ᯓᡣ𐭩LADS men meeting your ex.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 LADS men and alcohol.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 LADS men with pets.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 LADS men top 3 kinks list. | NSFW

ᯓᡣ𐭩 LADS men sleeping habits.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 LADS men as fathers.

ᯓᡣ𐭩LADS men and their roles in a horror movie.

SHORT BUT SWEET

✮ His puppy eyes (NSFW) ft. Xavier

✮ Grinding (NSFW) ft. Xavier

❦ Under the blankets (NSFW) ft. Caleb

❆ His glasses (NSFW) ft. Zayne

☆ Xavier and somno | NSFW

☆ Cunt!Boy Xavier | NSFW

More coming soon...

𓅨 Morning with Sylus.

𓅨 What it means to be loved by Sylus

𓅨 Short angst headcanon series:

Part one | Part two

More coming soon...

𓆝 Rafayel, cannibalism and love.

More coming soon...

❦ Caleb NSFW Alphabet. | NSFW

❦ Caleb's Sleeping Habits (Extra)

❦ Caleb and strawberries.

❦ Caleb and your panties. | NSFW

More coming soon...

☃︎ Pregnancy Headcanons. | A bit of NSFW

More coming soon...

-----------------------------♡♡♡------------------------------

N A V I G A T I O N

About Me | Rules | Special Tags

[rainix13]

Loving Her Is (Im)possible

masterlist

Natasha Romanoff x Civilian!Reader

description: They say loving the Black Widow is impossible, so what happens when you meet her?

Words: ~2k

Genre: fluff

Warnings: none I think, not proof read tho

I know this is shitty, I wrote this coping with myself lmao.

Next one is promised to be good or at least better again

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𓅨⋆｡°✩✮ ⋆ ˚｡⋆｡°✩｡⋆｡✮ ⋆ ˚｡⋆｡°✩✮ ⋆ ˚｡𓅨⋆｡°✩

Loving her is impossible. That's what they say.

Meeting her is easy.

Red hair, brown coat, black boots.

And effortless elegance that held the power to draw everyone's attention but prevent anyone from making eye contact. Or comment on her.

"A large, black coffee please" her voice carried the same unspoken authority her movements displayed.

Rough and soft at the same time, polite but distanced. She layed one hand on the counter while waiting. With the other hand she removed her sunglasses, letting them fall in the pocket of her coat. A few curious glances from the other customers in her direction but most just continued their conversations.

You watched the interaction, studying her. How she glanced over the room. How she corrected her own posture - and you did instinctively too. How she took her cup and took yet another glance over the room but in a seemingly different way. Her eyes locked onto you.

She directed a small, greeting nod to you and you responded with a friendly smile. "That seat doesn't seem taken", the redhead mostly stated, sitting on the chair across your own.

"You can't be sure of that" you replied with a teasing grin. The woman chuckled. A low, soft and intriguingly dangerous sound, sending a shiver down your spine. You tried to save it, lock it in your memory and protect it, the moment you heard it. If you could do something to get to hear it again, you would.

"So you're saying this seat is taken, princess?" a playful glint in her eyes, knowing exactly that it wasn't.

And within a split second your mind surrendered. You weren't sure if it was the nickname or just the way your own teasing backfired but you flushed and glued your eyes to your hands. "No" you mumbled, holding the cup in your hands just a little tighter. A shy smile played around your lips.

"No need to be shy, sweetheart. I'm Natasha"

Meeting her was embarrassing in a way you enjoyed it.

Knowing her is easy.

You knew who she was. Everybody does. The media is flooded with footage of her, everytime something in the world happens. Everybody sees what you could see that day.

Effortless perfectionism. Authority without room for arguments.

She was the Black Widow.

In press conferences the backbone of the avangers.

No one knew her. Behind that perfect mask that would allow her to dominate the whole room, was in reality something different.

Behind that perfect image was a human just as everyone else is. Someone who sometimes feels lonely. Someone who's guarded but also someone who let a few things slip from time to time.

You were aware that everything you saw of her was calculated. A risk she took.

A nightmare she told you she had. Explaining why her day was bad. Asking you what she should cook.

You never got much to grasp on, but to every little detail you held on as if it was sacred.

Nat:

I'm bored

What should I do?

You:

Me [you deleted that as soon as you typed it]

Cinnamon rolls

And just two hours later it'd ring on your door.

"Hey, I brought cinnamon rolls."

You laughed, seeing her physically relax under your careless happiness as you invited her in.

The Black Widow was an open book - someone everybody could know within thirty minutes of amateurish research.

Natasha Romanoff was more than that.

A closed book with a lock, behind bars, behind walls.

She rarely shared something about what she actually did or felt at any given moment. But if she'd let something slip you'd pick it up and cherish it.

Talking to her is easy.

Without even noticing in less than a month your world was upside down.

Checking your phone every ten minutes for notifications, even though you know the screen lits up when you get one.

Smiling when it does.

Denying the small bit of disappointment when the notification doesn't begin with "Nat 💕:".

Going silent on phone calls with others for a moment when you recieved a message from her. Being mentally absent while playing cards, glancing down at the phone beside you, answering whenever it's not your turn.

You:

How was your day?

Nat💕:

{voice message 1:48}

You loved these. You loved listening to her voice, detecting the satisfaction when she told you about a successful mission, hearing the frustration when some recruits didn't listen to her in training and then obviously failed the task at hand. You loved her sighs when she was tired.

Soon you yearned for every interaction you could get. A small chat, a short phone call. Or when you had the time you'd bring her a coffee over.

The first time you did, you weren't sure you'd get out of the building in one piece.

You learned that day that Shield doesn't have visitors. Especially not ordinary people and definitely not one's who come in without an agent.

Your hands were shaking as you held them over your head, in one still the coffee you brought.

"What do you want?" The guy, who asked this just entered the area, motioning for the security to stay in position.

"u-uh visiting? A friend" you added and cringed internally about verbally friendzoning the redhead. But that's the most fitting description. Maybe even exactly what she sees in you. A friend. One she likes to flirt and tease with just to see how it messses with your head.

"And who is that friend?" he walked behind you, taking the coffee from your hand.

"Natasha? Romanoff..." your voice grew quieter realizing how unrealistic that must sound. And just as confirmation he scoffed "Of course. And if that's true, why isn't Agent Romanoff here to get you through security? And further, why is the name on this coffee 'Nathan'?"

Now you scoffed, rolling your eyes "So now it's my fault that coffeeshops can't get names right?? You can't convince me no coffeeshop ever wrote your name wrong" You regretted those word almost as soon as they left your mouth but now it was too late anyway.

But before anyone reacted to that, the clicking of heels cut through the tension. Just as they stopped a familar voice spoke up from behind you "You have some nerves, giving these kind of answers while having two guns directed at you, princess"

Your cheekes flushed at the nickname. You knew she did that on purpose, relishing your involuntary reaction. And it happened every time.

With probably another motion of one of the two behind you the security guys backed down and you turned around with a small smile on your lips. "Well, bold of you to show up so late they almost shoot me"

When you sat down on a couch in what you presumed was her office she took a sip from her coffee and sighed. "Nathan, huh?" A smirk playing around her lips.

You snorted meeting her eyes with a mischievous glint in your own "Maybe I made the barista write down the wrong name intentionally. But a coffee wouldn't be a coffee if they got your name right twice in a row"

It became a little game of yours. Trying to find a new variant or fucked up way to mess with each others name.

These meetings happened more often, you bringing her coffee or lunch. Talking, laughing, joking. You learned that the guy, who questioned you on your first time there was Clint, Natasha's best friend. Soon these lunch breaks became the thing you looked most forward to, by the start of a week.

You got to meet Clint, introducing himself with saying something along being sorry for almost having you shot. And by then all of you could only laugh about that first encounter.

On a random friday she took you to the shooting range after another shared lunch. Handing you one of her pistols she positioned herself behind you. Guiding your legs to stand in the right stance, moving her hands along your arms so you wouldn't hurt yourself. And while you loved learning to shoot, her being pressed against your back made it hard to focus. How her touch burned itself under your skin, how her scent surrounded you. And suddenly you felt like one of the recruits she liked to complain about. Distracted.

Of course Natasha noticed. But she didn't seem mind it, when it was you. She didn't mind having to guide you into the right position another time and maybe even a third. At least she didn't say so. She seemed to enjoy the time you had as much as you did and that alone made your heart skip a bit.

Watching yourself fall for her feels scary. Like the craziest thing you've ever done.

Running away is easy.

Especially when self-doubt is consuming you.

When she's out on missions and you don't get any response to your messages for hours or days.

You start to doubt yourself, if this was right for you.

The redhead tried to push you away only shortly after you met. Telling you that she's too much for you. That her life isn't made for her to fit in your world. You managed go convince her from the opposite.

Now you were the one doubting if that was the right decision.

On the one side fearing how much this is about to hurt if you don't work out, on the other already being too attached to let go now.

Not without trying.

But after just another day of radio silence from her side you feel like ending things would be best for you. Or after another conversation, where you realize that she's not actually telling you what she feels or what's bothering her. Giving only so short answers to your messages that something like a conversation wouldn't even begin - it hurt you probably more than it should.

But you didn't blame her. Or you tried not to. You knew that this was an unsettling kind of jealousy with no one to be jealous of. No one you knew about. But that didn't make it easier. It just drained your energy on these days, killing some of your usually good mood. Every one of those days giving you another reason to leave.

Running away. Not without an explanation, that would be unfair. She deserved to understand. And while you're trying to convince yourself that hurting her by leaving now would be less bad than doing it even later and that it would probably be for the best for both of you, you couldn't shake the feeling that she would've felt used.

And every time you think about that, she texts you, answering your last message and pushing the thought of leaving away immediately - not that she's aware of that but she still does. The start of a conversation, that filled you with a strange sense of happiness. A happiness that kept you from running.

The urge to stay is impossible to ignore. The want to understand every action before calling it unreasonable, taking all reasons to leave and burn them down, you kept only the reasons to stay.

A stupid smile with every message.

An shy and embarrassing flush with every tease.

The commitment to understand her and give her time.

You mentally burned whatever you read about her on the internet. Banning news reports about her, ignoring blogs judging her or her job in any way.

Instead you chose to focus on every single bit that seemed to be real and held on to it. Every soft chuckle, the glint in her eyes when they meet yours, her sighs at the end of a voice message about an overly exhausting day.

Everything that you knew was her. What didn't scream 'ex-assassin and spy'.

You chose to learn and hold on to what you got about Natasha instead of Widow.

You chose to ignore the reasons to leave for now.

Red hair, brown coat, black boots.

And a caring smile in your direction.

Loving her could turn out so easy.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𓅨⋆｡°✩✮ ⋆ ˚｡⋆｡°✩｡⋆｡✮ ⋆ ˚｡⋆｡°✩✮ ⋆ ˚｡𓅨⋆｡°✩

[bouncytrait]

Ravenwood✮ ⋆ ˚｡𓅨⋆｡°✩

[scealaiscoite]

⋆˚࿔ build a fic; forced proximity edition 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

➴ chose a space, an object and a line of dialogue (a number, letter, + creature), and write/request to your heart’s content!)

𓂃 ࣪˖ a space

꒰ 1 ꒱ a broken-down elevator

꒰ 2 ꒱ a gas station bathroom

꒰ 3 ꒱ a dusty attic

꒰ 4 ꒱ a dimly lit storage locker

꒰ 5 ꒱ a ship’s brig

꒰ 6 ꒱ a bank vault

꒰ 7 ꒱ a wine cellar

꒰ 8 ꒱ an armoury

꒰ 9 ꒱ a hayloft

꒰ 10 ꒱ a shipping container

꒰ 11 ꒱ a holding cell

꒰ 12 ꒱ a firewatch outpost

꒰ 13 ꒱ a secluded cottage

꒰ 14 ꒱ a security hut

꒰ 15 ꒱ the foot of a massive redwood

𓂃 ࣪˖ a body part

꒰ A ꒱ thigh

꒰ B ꒱ palm

꒰ C ꒱ knee

꒰ D ꒱ pinky finger

꒰ E ꒱ ankle

꒰ F ꒱ eyebrow

꒰ G ꒱ nape

꒰ H ꒱ ear

꒰ I ꒱ calf

꒰ J ꒱ stomach

꒰ K ꒱ lower back

꒰ L ꒱ chest

꒰ M ꒱ hip

꒰ N ꒱ scalp

꒰ O ꒱ knuckles

𓂃 ࣪˖ a line of dialogue

꒰ 𓆉 ꒱ “… would now a bad time to tell you that i’m claustrophobic?”

꒰ 𓅨 ꒱ “i- “ “sh, honey.”

꒰ 𓆣 ꒱ “you’re not okay, you’re shaking! what can i do? please, just- just let me help you.”

꒰ 𓃰 ꒱ “shit, someone’s coming- in here, quick!”

꒰ 𓃗 ꒱ “i’ve never been so glad that you run hot.”

꒰ 𓃱 ꒱ “i’m gonna take my hand away, but you have to promise to stay calm, okay?”

꒰ 𓃟 ꒱ “just never figured you for a little spoon.”

꒰ 𓆟 ꒱ “your eyes are really pretty up close.”

꒰ 𓆈 ꒱ “i know you don’t like to be touched, but there’s not a whole lot i can do about that right now.”

꒰ 𓅫 ꒱ “we’re gonna need to talk about some things after this, aren’t we?”

꒰ 𓅟 ꒱ “don’t bullshit me, i can hear your heart pounding.”

꒰ 𓃵 ꒱ “you’re a real good hugger, y’know that?”

꒰ 𓃓 ꒱ “i like your perfume/cologne.”

꒰ 𓆌 ꒱ “of all the fucking people to get stuck here with, of course it had to be yo- “

꒰ 𓆏 ꒱ “i can’t believe that this is what it took for you to let me hug you.”

[himbodruid]

Bullet(s) For My Valentine

Sylus x Reader

Sylus has never experienced a fear like this, seeing you bleeding out in his arms after taking bullets meant for him

Heavy angst, hurt/comfort

CW: gunshot wounds, emotional af Sylus, Zayne is just bestie

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𓅨⋆｡°⭑ ✮ ⋆ ˚｡𓅨⋆｡°✩⭑

Searing flames ripped through you. You’d never experienced being shot before, but there was a first for everything. 0/10, would not recommend.

You didn’t even know how things escalated to that point so quickly. Some illegal protocore dealings needed to be investigated, and you’d volunteered for the job on the off chance Sylus’s crew was involved. The contract was supposed to be a simple in and out intel gathering ordeal, but the perps must’ve caught wind of the investigation.

Sylus was indeed involved, but from Onychinus’s own investigative standpoint. You’d run into him while entering the building, and he quickly hatched a plan to become your escort.

When the pistols came into play, Sylus wasted no time taking down a handful of men. His evol made quick work of those his pistol couldn’t, and you knew it gave him a thrill.

But, he was so focused on that thrill that he didn’t notice a man sneaking around the shadows behind him. You saw him and leapt in the line of fire before the bullets could strike Sylus. Your own weapon discharged, the man fell to the ground before you did. You couldn’t even tell how many times you’d been hit, you just knew that your body was on fire.

“No!” Sylus had never shouted like that before, and the power behind it scared you. The room went dark, his evol erupting from him to snuff out every single potential threat, including your intel target. Damn it, so much for the mission. But that was the least of your worries.

Sylus knelt over you, pulling you into his arms and assessing the damage. All the while he muttered a string of curses, which included what sounded like “you beautiful idiot”.

Black spots danced in your vision when he lifted you into his arms. The darkness that swarmed you was tinged red, and you couldn’t tell if you were losing consciousness or if he was losing control of his evol. Which was impossible, surely? Sylus was the epitome of precise control.

“Stay with me,” he kept telling you, over and over. You tried focusing on him, on his face, but it was so hard with the fire in your veins. You wanted to assure him that you weren’t going anywhere, but even you had no idea how bad the damage was. You couldn’t pinpoint any one specific place for the pain, it was everywhere.

“Sylus,” you whimpered, wanting nothing more than to give in to the darkness that spotted your vision, but you were scared. And stubborn.

“Shhh, I’ve got you, love,” he murmured to you with a shaky voice, clutching you closer to him. The weightlessness you felt amplified further, and then you knew the red tinge was indeed his evol. He made quick work of the distance between the gathering and the base, but you succumbed to the darkness the moment he landed.

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“She’s not waking up. Why isn’t she waking up?” Sylus demanded, pacing the length of the room. He ran his hand through his hair for what felt like the millionth time. The doctor gave an exasperated sign, turning his glare towards Sylus.

After dropping the Association’s target at their doorstep, thankfully just unconscious, Sylus had recognized the doctor in front of him as someone his kitten trusted. And he….may have possibly maybe accidentally abducted the doctor in a fit of panic. It was faster than sending for his own medic, anyway.

The doctor, Zayne, put up a good fight with his own evol, right up until he saw her laying on the bed. Then he was all business, assessing her wounds and working to fix her up. Sylus had the twins bring any and all materials Zayne needed for this impromptu house call.

But now she lay so frighteningly still, unnaturally pale, on his bed, and Sylus had never experienced a bone-deep fear like this before. And the impatience that came with it was maddening. Zayne watched him with those annoyingly assessing eyes of his, choosing his words carefully.

“She’s stable. She has two perforating gunshot wounds in the lower left abdomen, so thankfully I don’t have to attempt fishing out the bullets. All vital organs were missed, as well, so she is incredibly lucky. An inch in any direction, and the outcome would be very different for everyone involved.”

Sylus exhaled for what felt like the first time in hours. She’ll be okay, he kept telling himself over and over. He scrubbed his face with his hands, slumping into a chair a short distance away. With his face still half cradled in his hands, he watched the steady rise and fall of her chest. Meanwhile, Zayne continued his scrutiny from the stool Sylus had provided him.

“I’ll cut to the chase. I know very well who you are, but I want to know how you know her. And I want to know how she came to be in this condition, and if it will be a permanent issue from being around you.”

Sylus thought about his words carefully, ensuring that the adrenaline coursing through his blood wouldn’t make an enemy out of someone she respected. He was angry, but at himself and not the doctor in front of him. Zayne was right to be suspicious, since being the leader of a crime organization came with heaps of dangers that she would inevitably be exposed to. Yet the selfish side of Sylus abhorred the idea of letting her go to live a safer life.

“She was on a mission for the Association, and our goals happened to align. So, I went in with her in hopes of protecting her from dangerous people. Don’t look at me like that, I’m very well aware I’m also dangerous people,” Sylus said. “But somewhere, the mission went awry and she took the bullet that was meant for me, like a beautiful idiot.

“As for how I know her, that is a much longer conversation that I know you don’t have time for right now. And when she is out of danger and you have more time, we will talk about it and my intentions for her. Just know that I would give my life for her, I have given my life for her, and I will ensure she wants for nothing.”

Zayne kept his calculating gaze on Sylus, rolling his words around for a minute before relaxing his guard with a curt nod. Sylus’s shoulders drooped, thankful that the man in front of him seemed reasonable enough. Either that, or he was also insane. No matter, Sylus liked him well enough, and would do anything to stay on his good side for her sake.

“I may be her doctor, but I am also one of her closest friends. If you hurt her in any way, you will have me to answer to.”

And Sylus knew he would be good on his threat. Zayne was formidable with the ice in his veins, and Sylus was glad to have an ally out of him, rather than an enemy. The two men stood, clasping hands.

“Thank you,” Sylus said, his voice thick with an unnamed emotion. Zayne nodded once, turning to look at her again before stepping from the room. Sylus had arranged a car for him to take him back to Linkon. Under normal circumstances, he wouldn’t allow anyone to see the way to or from his home. But that privilege was extended to Zayne by proxy.

After a few silent moments, Zayne popped his head back in through the doorway. “She’s very accident prone, so you’re going to have your hands full. Good luck, and don’t hesitate to call for me.”

Sylus chuckled when he retreated once more. Accident prone, indeed.

He settled into the stool that Doctor Zayne vacated, waiting for her wake up. Anxiety coursed through him, despite the doctor’s reassurances. This was the first time in…a long time that he felt helpless. He just desperately needed her to open her eyes again, to hear her voice. Hell, he’d even take her casual bullying over this.

But all he could do was sit and wait.

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You wove in and out of consciousness, continuously being pulled back under despite your efforts to claw your way back to the waking world. Flashes of conversation with muffled voices you couldn’t focus on. At some point you swore you could hear Zayne in the room, but that would be impossible. From the few visual snippets you could snag, you were definitely in Sylus’s bed. The absurdity of that idea, that Zayne could be here of all places finally convinced you to give in to the depths.

You weren’t sure how much time passed when you were finally able to return to reality. You came to your senses much slower than you would have liked, but when you finally peeled open your eyes, you quickly shut them again. Even the dim lamplight in the corner of the room made you flinch. Yet, when you felt the weight of something by your hand, your eyes shot back open.

Sylus sat slumped over the side of the bed, his head resting on his crossed arms. It was a brief moment of vulnerability that he rarely showed, and something swelled in your chest at the sight. With great effort, you lifted your hand, brushing silvery strands of his hair from his face. He inhaled sharply in waking, and then his eyes sprung open once he realized you were touching him.

“Don’t you ever pull a stunt like that again,” he admonished immediately, his voice cracking with emotion. You thought you could see his eyes become watery, but he clenched them closed when he brought your hand to his lips. He held it there while he struggled to regain his composure. After a few deep breaths, he finally opened his eyes again.

“I’m sorry,” you croak. With a soft sigh, Sylus reaches over to the side table, pouring you a glass of water. When you tried to take it from him, he brushed your hand aside. He held the glass up to your lips, assisting you in taking long sips. Once finished, he placed the glass back on the side table, staring at it for a moment while he gathered his thoughts.

“Kitten,” he said softly. “I’m sorry. I’m not angry with you. I’m angry with myself.”

“But why?” Your voice was stronger now that the water eased the scratch of it. He closed his eyes again, jaw clenching as though he were in pain.

“Because I failed to protect you. If you’d been killed while under my watch…” he said in a strangled tone, one that suggested he had tortured himself incessantly with the what-ifs. Your heart lurched at the torment that laced his voice.

“i’m okay, though, Sy. My dumb mistakes aren’t your fault,” you said, reaching out to cup his cheek in your palm. He nuzzled into your touch, placing his hand over yours.

“I would have my every weakness exposed and exploited than to see you hurt like that again,” he murmured against your palm. A single tear escaped, trailing down his cheek before colliding with your hand. You used the pad of your thumb to wipe it away, heart breaking at the devastatingly beautiful man in front of you failing to maintain his usually rock-solid composure.

“Sy..” you whispered, not sure how to comfort him. You were alive and mostly intact, and now you were determined to be more careful in the future. You didn’t think your heart could bear seeing him like this again.

Before more could be said, there was a soft knock on the door.

“Boss?” Came Kieran’s voice on the other side. “The doc’s here.”

Sylus cleared his throat and stood. He let his eyes linger on you for a moment before going to the door and opening it. Dread filled you when you saw Zayne enter, and your eyes darted between the two men.

Zayne and Sylus exchanged a look before Sylus wordlessly nodded and left the room. Confusion and terror roiled through you and you struggled to grasp for any excuse you could come up with. But those excuses died on your tongue when Zayne turned his calculating gaze on you. He just stood there for a moment, staring, looking like he was collecting his thoughts. He said nothing as he approached the bed and placed his medic bag by the table. Only when he sat did he heave a sigh and then opened his mouth.

“Relax,” he said calmly. “You don’t have to try and make up some lie about who Sylus is, or how you know the head of Onychinus. I’m here as your doctor first, friend second.”

You relax, but only slightly. Zayne being here and knowing exactly who Sylus was spoke a lot to how scared Sylus was. You longed to pry for information about this new development, but you breath came up short when Zayne helped you to sit up. He removed the bandages and assessed your wounds, nodding in approval at seeing you were healing well enough. He redressed the wounds and then sat back in his stool. His gaze had always unsettled you- it felt like he could see right into your soul. As a result, you’d never been able to lie to him.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have kept it from you,” you say, looking down at your fidgeting hands.

“How long has it been?” He asked quietly. You looked back at him, confused.

“For what?”

“How long have you known him? How do you know him?”

You took your time thinking back over the events of the last year, trying to pinpoint where your relationship with Sylus changed from business to something more intimate.

“I think…it’s almost been a year? I tried to infiltrate the N109 Zone, but ended up crossing paths with someone who intended me harm. Sylus and the twins swooped in and saved me. I hated him at first, but I realize now that there was a lot I didn’t know at the time. I thought he was responsible for Gran and Caleb…”

Your words trailed off and you shrugged. “But things are…different now. I’ve come to trust him almost as much as I trust you.”

Zayne gave you one of his small smiles, the kind you knew meant that he was content with your answer.

“I can tell that he loves you,” he said warmly, placing his hand on your arm to still your fidgeting. “When he dragged me here, I thought he intended to use me against you. But instead, he brought me here because he knew you trusted me. He also insisted on my monitoring your condition, rather than bringing in his own man. He also tried to pay me quite the sum for the perceived inconvenience.”

Zayne leaned in, narrowing his eyes slightly. “How did you end up hurt like this?”

“The Association sent me on an intel gathering mission and Sylus happened to be there for the same reason, though for his own research. A fight broke out, guns happened, and next thing I know I’m diving into the line of fire so he doesn’t get hit in the back. I know, I know, it was stupid of me,” you huff. “I did it without thinking, even knowing he can instantly heal from something like that.”

“The same story he gave m- wait.” Zayne’s eyes widened. “Instantly heal? And how do you know he’s capable of such a thing?”

You clamped your mouth shut, awkwardly staring at Zayne while he stared at you in shock. Unfortunately, this was another one of those moments that you wouldn’t be able to lie to Zayne, and he would never let the question go. His medical mind would hyper-fixate on it until he got his answer.

“W-well,” you start, wondering how you should word it. “I mmmmaybe…sorta…shot him point blank in the chest when we first met. But he started it!”

Zayne sat back in the stool heavily, eyes wide with incredulity. You could almost see the gears turning in his head. “And he…healed…from that?”

“Yeah, with his evol. Ask him if you don’t believe me, but he’s the one that provoked me!”

A small hmm sound was all he replied with. He didn’t get a chance to press it further, as Sylus knocked and poked his head into the room.

“It was still painful as all hell,” he quipped, clearly having heard the conversation. Zayne waved him into the room. “Thankfully, we haven’t had a repeat performance.”

Zayne sat in silence, turning this new information over in his mind. Sylus came in, sitting at your feet and placing a hand on your leg, over the pile of blankets covering you. Zayne’s eyes zeroed in on the motion and he looked back at you.

“As long as you are safe and happy,” he said softly, letting the previous conversation go way too easily. You could detect worry in his gaze, but he quickly hid it being that stoic facade he was masterful at.

“I am,” you reply with a smile. Zayne’s eyes darted between you and Sylus, and you could feel Sylus’s eyes locked on the side of your face. Zayne nodded and stood, followed by Sylus so he could show the doctor out.

“If he ever tries anything, you better tell me,” Zayne said sternly, narrowing his eyes at the other man. Sylus’s warm chuckle reverberated in the room at the thinly-veiled threat.

“She is more than capable of handling herself, but no harm will come to her ever again. I will see to it personally.”

Zayne nodded, content with Sylus’s declaration. He strode towards the door, rambling off a list of care details that Sylus listened to with rapt attention. Zayne’s approval meant everything to you, and you felt like you could breathe easier. You didn’t realize how much it weighed on you, having to hide your relationship from the only friend you had left from your childhood. You briefly wondered if Caleb, who was notoriously more protective of you, would have approved of Sylus, too. But that line of thinking was dangerous, so you pushed it from your head. Instead, you started thinking about how Zayne would try to figure out how Sylus’s evol granted him near immortality.

You settled back against the mountain of pillows that Sylus provided you. It looked like he went through the house and brought every single one available to you, along with hoards of blankets, effectively cocooning you in a nest of comfort. The thought and care in those small details made your heart swell and you smiled to yourself.

And then the absurd man reentered the room holding a massive bouquet of roses in one hand, and a bag containing takeout in the other. You let out a bark of laughter at the unexpected arrival, covering your face with your hands. Sylus flashed a brilliant smile at you, and it stole your breath away. You wanted to see that smile every single day.

“What’s all this?” You ask, still laughing merrily. He set the bouquet on the side table and you reached out to touch the velvety petals. The flowers were a deep burgundy color, darker and more purple tinted than typical red roses. Breathtakingly beautiful, just like the man in front of you.

“I had the boys run an errand, and had them pick this up on their way home before taking Doctor Zayne back to Linkon,” Sylus said, a soft blush staining the tips of his ears. Home. With Sylus. You decided you liked the sound of that.

The remainder of the night was spent splitting delicious food and engaging in light banter. He meticulously took care of you, even though exhaustion was evident in the dark circles under his eyes and the airy quality of his voice.

It took effort, but you finally convinced him to curl against your side, opposite to your wounds. The moment he did, his entire body relaxed into you and he fell asleep almost instantly. Days of running himself ragged finally came to an end, and you stroked his hair gently while he slept. All the while, you pondered your thoughts and assessing your emotions.

And you came to the conclusion that you were helplessly in love with the man at your side, the leader of Onychinus and the most wanted man on Earth, perhaps the universe.

[silentheels]

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[radio-fmm]

The sparrow and the hunter

Zoro x fem!reader

Warnings: pure fluff, mentions of daggers, zoro making fun of gods as he does, fem reader can transform into an animal idk thought you should know

Word count: 2.1k

Summary: In which Zoro falls hard for you and he struggles with it

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When you first joined the crew, Zoro was very skeptical about what you actually would bring to the table, since your abilities were… unique to say the least, but you had helped them giving useful information and advise when in a very tight situation, and who was he to doubt his captains decisions.

“A BIRD?” Luffy exclaimed almost jumping out of his seat. Yes, you could turn into a bird

“Yep, that’s why I am a good informant! People don’t suspect of a tiny sparrow flying around” you explained followed by a wink

“But… how?!” The navigator asked still confused

You turned around tugging your shirt slightly down and removing your hair form your back to reveal a tattoo “This is an ancient mark that was bestowed upon me by my people, the mark of a god called Quetzalcoatl, also known as the feathered snake. It carries the power that allows me to transform”

This only made Zoro grow even more doubtful about you, a god? It sounded like a fairytale to him. But as it turned out, you were also a fearless fighter, extremely skillful with daggers and combined with your special ability it made you fierce, which earned you his respect quickly after having fought beside him and the strawhats.

As you slowly went from the quiet reserved new crewmate to show your real colors of a confident caring bright and easygoing individual, the swordsman didn’t mind sharing with you the ‘training zone’ which was just a section of the going merry Nami had assigned to such activities to prevent accidents. Most if not all of the time you would train separately since you only did cardio and battle training and Zoro was more of a heavy lifting kind of guy. Both seemed to enjoy the silence of each other’s company and only exchanging few hellos and goodbyes.

But of course that slowly began to change when Zoro became curious on your fighting tactics

“Where did you get that dagger?” He asked from the other side of the ‘gym’ after staring at you training from a while, you turned to him a little taken aback, he wasn’t the one to talk let alone start a conversation

“I made it myself when I was 12” you answered as you slowly walked to where the stoic swordsman was standing.

Zoro had noticed how this dagger was different from the others you kept on your belt, not only was the shape and overall hold and design different, you kept it in a cover around your thigh at all times, so it peeked his interest

You presented the dagger, making slow steady movements that made it shine in the afternoon sun, it indeed looked more homemade, and the sharp edge was of a black shiny material he had never seen before.

“My father was a hunter, he showed me how to build this type of daggers to protect myself since we lived in the mountains… and for artistic purposes” Zoro’s eyes examined every detail of the weapon, and in further examination he noticed how indeed everything about it was really you, your essence was plastered all over it

“Interesting” he said still fixated on the dagger “You can hold it”

Zoro looked at you now closer and speaking almost in a whisper, you handed him your beloved weapon and he took it slowly. It was lighter than he expected it to be, he made an aggressive strong move as if he was cutting something and you giggled which made him embarrassed and a little insecure

“What?” He blurted out in defense

“You don’t use it like that, it’s meant for self defense or close targets. You have to move fast and steady” you took his hand in yours and demonstrated how to attack with it cornering your own throat between the dagger

“Always strike with purpose”

The swordsman felt his heart rate accelerate and a pink blush creeping from his neck, his gaze fixated in yours and his mind racing. You offered a sweet smile before removing yourself from the hold, Zoro returned the dagger to you shyly “Nice uhm… technique… and beautiful dagger” he immediately turned around to resume his workout, still flushed and with nervous hands.

The green haired pirate felt his head spinning not believing how you, a freshly arrived new strawhat, had not only allowed him to hold something you treasured and valued so much, but also had pointed it to your neck with his hands while being a man that doubled you in size and strength. His head couldn’t stop thinking about the intimacy of it all, it had left him breathless. You trusted him

But really it was just the beginning of the end for this poor man. Zoro had found himself trying to have more of you, like you had casted a spell, craving for your attention and essence.

He now looked for you when he entered any room, always wanting to be in your presence even while you just were enjoying your hobbies or any mundane task, he was eager to learn things about you and oh what a wonderful person you were to chat to, always keeping the conversation fun and interesting, listening attentively when it was his turn to talk, always sharing a piece of your soul.

You had seen through his stoic scary facade and saw what he really was. Everything that Zoro did was driven by love and the deep meaningful connections with the people around him, always remaining loyal and acting as the protector of the crew not because it’s his job but because he cares. He may not be as expressive as Sanji, but you were able to read him.

This scared Zoro immensely, not only cause he started to catch himself feeling annoyed whenever the stupid cook swooned your way or called you sweet names, or cause he couldn’t stop thinking about you even when training or trying to nap, or cause somehow you seemed to enjoy being around him too. No, it scared him because it made him feel like you had a hold on his heart and was afraid of being vulnerable. He felt weak

So when he finally came to the conclusion he was falling for you, and falling hard, instead of talking about his feelings, he opted for actively avoid you but of course you noticed right away. At first you gave him some time pretending you didn’t notice, he probably needed space from you feeling like you were smothering him, but eventually it had started not only to become ridiculous but to hurt you, because at the contrary of Zoros better judgment, you cared.

You excused yourself from dinner way early one evening, making a lame excuse so that you could finally catch Zoro alone on the crows nest on night watch and confront him, tired of his obnoxious behavior. Your stomach stirred in nervousness as you laid down on your hammock trying to distract yourself while crocheting, the door creaked open and you saw Nami menacingly standing in front of the door

“When are you gonna pull Zoro out of his misery?” your brows furrowed and a scoff escaped your lips

“What are you talking about? He’s the one avoiding me” The navigator rolled her eyes and sighed very loudly clearly annoyed

“He’s head over heels for you y/n! But he doesn’t know what to do just spare him”

“That’s not true” you sounded almost sad, Nami slowly came closer to you changing her approach

“You’re kidding right?, I swear he almost got up and ran after you when you stormed out, he’s smitten I had never seen him like this” you didn’t answer, thinking about his change in behavior and Namis thoughts, it seemed like it made sense

“I was planning on talking to him later anyways”

An exited squirm escaped Nami as she aggressively pushed your hammock back and forth shaking you “FINALLY! I swear you both were driving me insane”

As the sun disappeared behind the ocean and the moon greeted you shining through the cloudless sky, you awaited for everyone to retire to their bedrooms to peek your head through the door of the girls quarters, the ship was lulled by the waves and not a sound could be heard, quite rare for the Merry to be this quiet only confirming everyone was fast asleep.

You looked up to see the swordsman’s green hair peeking through the crows nest, only making you more nervous

“I can see you staring you know?” Zoro spoke loud enough so you could hear but not to wake anyone up, a shiver ran down your spine before you cleared your throat approaching the tall nest

“Can we talk? Please?” You didn’t wait for an answer before transforming and flying your way up, feeling shaky as you landed in the edge and morphing back

“I guess” Zoro whispered, arms crossed in front of his chest looking up at the stars twinkling in the night sky

The gentle breeze made your hair dance revealing your glistening eyes and your pinkish cheeks, the moonlight softened you making you look like a fallen angel that had answered to Zoros prayers. Of course he knew what were you doing here, it made his heart quiver in anticipation both of not having a clue of how you may approach the topic and to finally see you up close again after a long time of staring from afar

“Why are you avoiding me?” Oh so we are going straight to it “I gave you space so you would figure things out, but it has gotten stupid what did I do wrong?”

Silence pierced your ears only hearing your heavy breaths both of how nervous you were and how quickly you had morphed to get up there with him, you had never been so blunt in your life but it was Zoro who we are talking about here there was no way around it

“I don’t know” after a while of you staring at him while his gaze shifted from you to literally anything else this was his response? You sighed defeated before getting up

“I won’t get in your way then” it hurt you deeply but what else could you do if you couldn’t reason with the hardheaded swordsman?. Before you could get on the ladder you felt a strong hand reach yours in a hurry

“Wait… stay” there was a shift in his tone, you had never heard Zoro speak like this, it was like soft plead for understanding. You hesitated but sat back down face to face while he kept his grip on your hand

“If you don’t tell me what you’re feeling I can’t understand Zoro” you also changed your tone to a softer one, making him feel secure, encouraging him to speak up.

There was no other way around it, even if he didn’t felt ready to say it out loud the more he did leaps around his feelings the worse it’ll get. Zoro squished your hand as he struggled to find the words

“I’m avoiding you because I can’t handle the way you make me feel” He couldn’t look at you even if he tried but if he did he would be met with a puzzled expression planted all over your face

“I am falling for you and I don’t know what to do”

Zoro looked intensely into your big orbs that shone as bright as the moonlight above both of you, the confusion of your face was washed away immediately, a loving smile now in its place. You giggled which made him back up in embarrassment you did that often

“You love me you big idiot! That’s what you do” you said before leaning in to lock your lips in his.

The pirates eyes widen in surprise but slowly welcomed your action, melting in your touch and positioning a hand in your back to keep you closer while both of your hands hanged from his neck. You tasted sweet like he imagined but way more addictive, he never wanted to part his lips from yours ever again, but breathing was necessary for both of you.

Your smile came back to your mouth as you separated, cupping both of his cheeks so he would keep looking at you

“I love you Zoro”

An unfamiliar warmth settled on his face, but a wonderful feeling captured his heart and then he knew, if he was to ever give his heart to anyone in the world it’ll be you, you’ll take care of it and love it unconditionally

“If I say it back you’ll kiss me again?” your laugh was heard again brightening the dark sea and the pirates soul

“Yes”

“I love you too y/n”

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Omg I loved doing this oneeee, and ofc had to represent my culture adding an aztec god as reference ☝🏻 if you want a series or a follow up lmk, as always feel free to request and correct me, English is not mu first language