#╳◥▆▇⎡ every body dreams of adventure but where is it that they go when they do? ⎦( verse undetermined ) | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

misslovasstuff · 1 year

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Prompt: “Wanna go on an adventure?”

You say whilst wearing a sexy dress that’d leave any man drooling.

paired with: Sanji, Zoro and Ace.

warning: contains nsfw, minors are asked not to interact.

author’s note: the opening line for Ace is the smoothest thing I’ve ever written till now. If you guys want me to continue any of this, let me know.

Sanji:

“Goodness, - he eyes you up and down. - oh my oh my oh my…!”

The cook’s mouth drops as he covers it with his hand in complete disbelief.

“You’re such a merciless woman! - Sanji approaches slowly, caressing your arm with the back of his hand just to feel you and understand that what’s happening right now is certainly not a dream. - Don’t you know what you do to me when you wear clothes like these~

He grabs your bra strap on your shoulder and pulls it, hitting your skin, all whilst never shifting his gaze away from your eyes which were too shy to look back. A small moan escapes your mouth as you look at your man in a new light, since he’s never done this before.

“Sanji… - you call him breathily, as there is a passion in his eyes you recognised very well. - you’re being so…ahh…”

His hand caresses your back and stops low. You can’t tell what he’s doing until your dress begins to losen up.

He reveals the bow tie he had just removed, putting it in between your faces as he whispers: “you’ve wrapped yourself like a present for me, my lady. “

His left hand pulls you by the waist while the other brushes off some strands of hair out of your face, thus making your eyes meet: you realise how beautifully intense his gaze on you, as if he was looking at a dream come true.

His charms were too much to handle, making you gulp hard as you glance at his lips, so much so that Sanji might have heard it. His instincts are insane, he knows what you’re feeling and why every single time.

“I did put this on for you.” - Sanji averts his eyes for a moment, staring at your body with a smirk after your reply. The dress was revealing but still managed to leave space for imagination to fill. And, anybody who knows men, especially the ones like Sanji, know that this is all they want to get that fire going.

He grabs your chin gently and kisses your cheek. You surely know because of Sanji about those kisses where the impact of his lips is like a signature on your skin and you just feel it as if he was kissing your soul, you absorb it with every fiber of your being.

“Right, you wanted to go on an adventure? - he smirks before kissing your face again and again in such an agonising small pace, letting you wanting more, so much more.. - You might take me on one, under one condition.”

You raise an eyebrow and grin:

“Oh really, you’re putting conditions now, huh?” - you say, playing with his hair as your arms rest on his shoulders. - What is it that my prince wants?”

“Well, adventures are dangerous so, - Sanji begins to kiss you on the lips soflty, as he speaks in between, - might have to keep you very close to me. - his lips move down your neck, fingers brushing off skin before he kisses and sucks there. Slight moans are already being heard from you. - not to mention all the excitement…

You’re completely pulled in by him. Not only physically, but your entire being deviates towards his body, like a moth to a burning flame.

“I’ll take… responsibility for it all…” - your breath begins to shorten as you drown your face in the nape of his neck, taking in his fragrance like it was a life-saving drug.

“You’re gonna take care of me, huh? Alright then, the most important thing is, - suddenly he goes down in one knee, grabbing your leg and placing your foot to rest on his thigh while he caresses the inner part of yours. - you gotta let me undress you bit by bit, on my own, throughly.”

You smirk, raising your dress just a bit higher to reveal more to his bare eye. That’s see how long it’s gonna take until this dress finds itself on the floor.

“Deal. All yours.”

Zoro:

“Oh, look at that. Someone’s been feeding her imagination lately.” - Zoro is sat on a chair, looking like he had just finished a glass of booze.

“Only mine?” - you close the door behind you, staying firm in front of him.

Zoro’s eyes adventure in your body before he spins his index finger as to signal you to turn around 360 degrees for him.

So you do.

If only there was a way do describe the way his eyes stared you down, as if he was consuming you only with his gaze. After taking a last sip out of his glass, he puts it away, licking his lips.

“Come here.” - he demands by patting his lap for you to sit.

You compose yourself on his thigh, the rest of your legs resting on his other whilst your long and tender arms wrap themselves around his neck.

Zoro scans your face with a smirk that hides so many nasty thoughts which only occurred when he was with you like this.

“Tell me about that adventure you were talking about.” - he claims with a low and deep voice, brushing your chin with his thumb.

Perhaps it was the booze or perhaps it was you who had gotten the swordsman a bit tipsy.

Zoro pushes your hair away from your shoulders, planting gentle but rooted kisses there.

“Tell you or show you? - you reply back, running your fingers through his hair and then brushing off the back of his neck.

“I’m a visual learner.”

With the cue, you caress his lower lip, leaning in and then facing away, teasing him.

A smirk from you doesn’t go unnoticed by your man, which he mirrors and shakes his head to.

“You know, it doesn’t make sense for you to play hard to get after coming to me dressed like this.” - he claims, biting his lip as his eyes glance at your body.

Zoro raises an eyebrow, at your next remark.

“Sorry, i keep getting distracted.”

You like the expression on his face. There’s frustration but love, eagerness but also resistance. Normally you wouldn’t continue teasing him like this but you know he likes it.

“Don’t worry, I’ll keep you focused for some time.”

It’s not long till he grabs your cheeks with one hand while the other caresses your thigh and pushes you closer so your lips meet passionately. His tongue dominates yours and he kisses like he was sucking the soul out of your body. The taste of alcohol on his mouth, his heavy breathing and those subtle but harsh touches were making you go insane.

His hand travels down to your upper part of the dress, lowering it with one pull thus revealing your bare chest. He gazes upon it before grabbing it with a hand, squeezing those boobs together before devouring them in his mouth.

Seeing you dressed like this, although not admitting it, must have turned him on like crazy. Your moans only add to his excitement as you push your head back, breathily calling his name.

“Zoro…- you clench your hand to his shirt, keeping yourself balanced.

“Ima bout to take you to the best adventure you’ve had in your life.”

This said, his hands take a strong grip on your waist, grabbing it good before picking you up and making you sit on the table, parting your legs and looking intensely at your eyes.

Zoro pulls you in by grabbing your legs, touching his forehead with yours as he whispers:

“Damnit, you’re so sexy right now I’m barely holding myself together.”

Ace:

“Dressed like that, the only adventure you’ll take me is inside you.”

You get all flustered as he scans you from head to toe, leaning against the counter with his arms crossed.

“Not to mention, now I feel underdressed.” - he claims chuckling, as he pushes his body forward to approach you. Ace looks down on you, seeing your body from a perspective he didn’t imagine before. The way your dressed fit with your curves and just the fact that you looked so hot in it made his body go all ‘code red’ whilst standing in close proximity, but not putting any hands on you yet.

“Well, it won’t matter anyways, - you reply, making the first move by caressing his chest. - you’ll get it off me faster than I put it on.”

“I see you came with clear expectations. - he replies, touching the hand you were caressing his chest with and lending a kiss to the palm. - what can I do for you, beautiful? You want an adventure?”

Your expression softens, as small romantic gestures that he did always left you in awe. But you’re no fool because it is known very welll by both of you what happens soon after and how that softness turns into grabbing the bed sheets.

“Kiss me, please.” - your voice sounds desperate which makes Ace grin.

“So needy today ~

His lips are inviting yours in a way that’s never happened before. He presses them delicately at first only to go absolutely feral after. Feels so perfect that even his head movements are in sync with yours, like dancing a fierce tango. He’s too eager, too hungry and too demanding. You’d swear you felt his tongue going down your throat as his hands are placed so well at your lower back, sliding down slowly.

“Ace… - you moan after finally catching your breath. Meanwhile, this man can’t stand without doing something that drives you crazy and you loved him for that.

He manages to get his hands under your dress, squeezing your ass like it was the only thing he wanted to hold on in this life. Ace comes back with more passionate kisses and touches second after second, making you unable to think, thus you just surrender to him completely.

“Dressed all pretty for me, - he says, pushing you a bit backwards, pinning you against the nearest wall. - you deserve a good reward, don’t ya?”

As your back hits the wall, Ace wastes no time in grabbing your legs and pushing them up to his waist. The dress no matter how sexy, still prevented him from feasting his eyes at you. A smirk appears on your eyes whilst biting your lip as you hang onto him shoulders.

He starts unzipping the front of your dress, turned on even more by looking at your expression filled of burning lust, showing unconsciously how much you wanted him.

“Let’s do some adventuring, shall we?”

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amongemeraldclouds · 5 months

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spoiler alert

Life can be complicated when you possess a rare kind of magic: the ability to see your future with someone upon meeting them. A chance encounter with Mattheo Riddle reveals more than you bargained for.

(Choose your own ending)

Mattheo Riddle x f!Reader

Warning: Mostly angst, some fluff, no use of y/n

✿ Masterlist | 1k words

You cradled the warm cup of tea in your hands as you made your way up the Astronomy Tower, careful not to spill any drop. It was a clear evening, the cool breeze floated lazily through the sky and the stars twinkled brightly. It was the perfect spot to unwind from the pressures of the day.

As you neared the arched balcony, a small orange glow caught your attention. Someone else was here, smoking. He turned upon hearing your footsteps approach.

“Hey stranger,” he called out. You took in his features, curly hair and bright eyes with a lopsided smirk, he was adorable.

“I’m Mattheo, care to smoke with me?” He asked, offering a fresh one from his pack of cigarettes.

You felt it then, magic coursing through your veins from the encounter. Time slowed down as it always did, vague images flashed in your mind and the all knowing voice of your future self spoke to you:

I tried to find all the words to tell you about this boy and how much you’ll love him. Oh the adventures you’ll have together and all the ways it will break your heart. One day you’re sixteen and you’re falling in love for the first time. Everything feels new and exciting. The warm buzzing in your veins when Mattheo bumps into your shoulder and runs his hand through your hair to brush off a leaf that fell. As if, as if. You’ll know it’s just an excuse but you won’t mind it at all. You’ll spend countless evenings in the Astronomy Tower, you with your tea and him with his cigarettes. You’ll talk for hours even though you’ll never remember every word you exchange. It’s enough to get to know him and hear his voice, a melody you’ll want to keep as the soundtrack to your life. You’ll find yourself spinning at the Yule Ball in a lovely dress feeling like the most beautiful girl in the world. You’ll laugh with him, his hand placed perfectly on your waist, bodies flush as you danced in sync, as if you were made just for each other. His other hand in yours, firm and warm as if he’ll never let go. Of course you had grown up with magic, it belonged in the air like oxygen and it sang in your bones. So you’ll wonder how it’s possible that the world is even more magical when you’re around him? Fast forward to when your wedding dress is tucked away at the back of your closet and his vows are on a crumpled paper in a drawer somewhere.

He’ll be good at forgetting dates and breaking promises. Too busy with his plans and ambitions, none of them will seem to include you anymore.

You’ll be good at forgiveness and do overs. After all, his jagged words and actions will be served in bite sized pieces so you’ll think you can stomach it all. You won’t realize it until your friend tells you that you smile less and stopped talking about your goals. You’ll figure out too late that you hacked away who you were to fit into his life, a wild hedge now perfectly manicured in his front lawn. You’ll tell him what you need, afraid you’re asking for too much. That you are too much. He’ll reassure you he can do better and for a while he does. Spoiler alert: it never lasts long. But here now, you are sixteen and evergreen. The stars are bright and so are your eyes. Your heart burns with dreams unrealized and passions you have yet to discover. Don’t take it for granted. My love, life is short but if you stay where you’re unhappy, life becomes insufferably too long.

You blink as the quiet returned and time resumed its course. The cool wind caressing your face brought you back to the present. You took a deep breath, warding off the looming nausea in your head. You’ve never seen that far off in the future before, someone potentially so significant in your life.

A crossroad: Do you choose to stay or leave? Scroll down for your answer.

Stay

“Well hi Mattheo, it’s nice to meet you,” you say as you walked towards him and introduced yourself. You take him up on his offer and held the cigarette in between your lips. Mattheo lit it for you so you inhaled the smoke, the first of many, and watched the wind carry away your exhalations. The air hummed with possibilities, romance, and heartbreak. That’s the thing about your visions, there was no way to know for sure if it would play out exactly as you’ve seen it. Where does one draw the line between destiny and our influence on the outcome? If you considered yourself seriously, you could say you’re an adventurer aspiring to chart her own course. But if you were more honest, perhaps you were simply in denial. Either way, you made your choice. You turned to Mattheo and watched him expertly take a drag from his cigarette. You studied the flex of his jaw and the curve of his lips. How can one stranger grow into something more and take up so much space in your life? Soon, you’ll be in love and dancing at a ball. You’re about to have some of the best years of your life and some of your worst. But maybe it’s worth it.

Leave

“No thanks,” you replied to the boy with curly hair and eager eyes and waved goodbye. You walked away without glancing back. Mattheo simply shrugged and returned to his cigarette, lost in his own thoughts once again. You retreat down the stairs, each step distanced you from a future of bliss and grief. No boy had to be worth your dreams, you thought. It was better this way. As you swivel back to the corridor, your mind swam in the power of choice as future regrets faded from your periphery. You yelped when you stumbled onto someone’s hard chest and warm tea spilled down his shirt. “Shit, I’m sorry,” you exclaimed, far too exhausted with the evening’s surprises. “It’s okay, nothing a little magic can’t fix,” said the boy with perfectly wild hair and a kind smile, already casting a spell to return his shirt to its once pristine condition. You didn’t know him personally, but you recognized him as Lorenzo Berkshire.

“Now about your spilled tea, can I help you get another one?” he asked. You smiled back at him as magic thrummed in your veins and time started to slowed down.

✿ Masterlist

Author's note:

✿ Based on the question, “if you knew how things would turn out, would you still make the same choices?”

✿ Another moment I was in my feels and spilled ink instead of the alternative. May have spilled the alternative anyway.

✿ If you chose to leave, of course I had to sneak in my sweet and lovely Enzo in there ♡

#mattheo riddle imagine #mattheo riddle x you #mattheo x you #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo x y/n #mattheoxreader #harry potter fanfiction #slytherin boys #hp fanfic #slytherin boys x reader #amongemeraldcloudswrites

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m1d-45 · 1 year

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dead leaves

summary: the creator is meant to be worshipped and praised, exalted to the highest of high. so… what went wrong?

word count: 1.2k

-> warnings: mentions of blood, you die multiple times, bitter(?) ending, spoilers for xiao lore (but it’s not said to be xiao specifically so technically you could read and just not know it’s him but now that i’ve said that you know it’s him so-)

-> gn reader (you/yours)

taglist: @samarill || @thenyxsky || @valeriele3 || @shizunxie || @boba-is-a-soup || @yuus3n || @esthelily || @turningfrogsgay || @cupandtea24 || @genshin-impacts-me

< masterlist > || next >

it wasn’t meant to happen like this.

it was never to occur at all, in fairness, but like this?

the clouds parted to make way for a single glitering star, shining a white hot gold. the whole world turned, stopped and stared in awe, every leaf on every stalk bearing witness to the one they called god.

it wasn’t supposed to be like this. the golden shine poured through the tall windows of a palace meant for you, the heretic in a crown ordering your people to betray you. their hands shook where their followers could not see—perhaps even they were aware of why the trees were rejoicing.

you, blessed you, torn from your home by the divinity in your blood, picking yourself up from sand with barely a vague memory of your location. walk, climb, walk again, and that’s where you learned how to swim, led on by the crumbling stone of barbatos’ statue. the squirrels chittered and the hilichurls retreated, not wanting to frighten you, bandaged hands seeking shields and clubs to keep busy instead.

mondstat is the nation of anemo. happy and bustling, merchants calling across courtyards, adventurers waking with the sun to continue their trade. a cool breeze welcomed you, tugging you along a stone bridge, the winds quiet.

so quiet, in fact, that the archon stirred from his slumber early, reaching for his bow.

you never even made it to the city gates. the doves on the bridge hopped closer as you approached, the knights on duty watching how eagerly they pressed themselves against you. a nod, a twist, a chain of knights leading up to the headquarters, all set on edge the moment the acting grandmaster cleared them to engage.

the first casualty was a bird. it had flung itself into the air, halting the arrow in its tracks, drawing your attention to the man standing atop the city wall. another bird died before you understood his crime.

leaves dappled the ground in shades of green, warm light falling on you as you ran. you didn’t know where you were going, really, and why would you? who had a contingency plan for when everyone they loved turned away? the river tumbled over smoothed rocks, the bright beacon of the statue of the seven pleading for forgiveness even as it’s archon wanted you dead.

mondstat was the city of freedom. could it still be called that when you bled out before you could reach the border?

you couldn’t die. literally, you couldn’t. ley lines converged where you were crossed, absorbing the dissipating flakes of your physical body. the earth hummed beneath the anemo archon’s feet as he watched divine blue blood be sucked up and swept away. was it a hallucination? how would he know?

elemental energy coursed through the earth, sprouting again at the geo through which it bled, releasing the holy light it carried and supplementing with its own. within the hour your eyes opened again, unsure whether to pray it was a dream or wonder which god could hear you.

liyue, nation of geo. the stone hummed beneath your feet, though you didn’t walk toward the city. you’d learned your lesson fast, and a spear to the gut would certainly take longer to kill than an arrow to the neck. not that it mattered, of course—the adepti are too in tune with the land to not have noticed your arrival.

as it turned out a spear does hurt more, which you learned when you found it sprouting from your stomach in the split second before the pain hit. bright jade stained blue, betrayal glimpsed in the dying eyes of the one alatus once called his savior.

and it began anew.

teyvat bubbled with anger, torn between enacting vengeance on those that hurt its maker and protecting you. you were taken to places of shelter, but people learned to follow where nature raged loudest. even if they didn’t, if storms kicked up in false alarm to draw them away, intuition toward their creator was sewn into the hems of every living creature. hilichurls could only hold up for so long, and the millelith were used to dealing with vishaps. the dense forests of sumeru were memorized by the most vigilant forest watcher, the consecrated beasts in the desert too big to keep up with the agility of the general mahamatra.

how cruel for you to die like this, at the hands of the ones you should have been able to trust. how cruel for you to die at all, stabbed in the back by those who should have worshipped you.

the one on your throne was tolerated, just barely so, rationalized as the people needing an idol to follow in your continued absence. but now you were here, now they had no reason to be, and visions began to go haywire whenever they entered the throne room. boars outran hunters, trees tangling over boots as nature wrought vengeance on behalf of its god.

you were everything.

every scholar sought to understood your world further, your spirit found in every star in the sky. to study the world was to study you, how every string was woven into the universe. when you looked to the earth the soil said hello, the trees bowing before their creator, and yet your most beloved artwork was the one that hated you the most. was it hubristic to think a mortal could truly kill a god, or pathetic that they believed the fraud so quickly? they didn’t have elemental energy buzzing at their fingertips, they didn’t have the respect of the world, only commanding people, those easily swayed by a similar face and lucky coincidences. they were nothing like you, you who held galaxies in your blood, you who created the sky and the seas and the creatures within, who created everything. who was everything.

…and now you were nothing. lost in the ley lines that frantically searched for a place to host your body, outrunning the hunt for the god of all. nothing, half conscious in the heart of the earth, within a cave that had cracked open for this very purpose. hidden, the entrance sealed by stone itself, only allowing in slimes that helped sustain you. how cruel, the skies wept, torrents of rain falling in punishment. the fraud barely left the palace anymore, which was only standing thanks to reinforcement from the geo archon. were it not for their lie, they would be dead a thousand times over, killed in every way you had.

but they were in the palace, hidden where the world could not reach. so stone cradled your body, carefully ensuring you still continued to breathe, leylines redirecting to offer energy. not awake, not asleep, stuck in a stasis while hell raged around you.

it’s alright. teyvat would have its revenge eventually. lightning would find its way into the palace, someone would bring something carrying elemental energy into the throne room, something. the fake would die and you would be born anew from the earth, weak and tired but alive, most importantly.

anemo brushes off dust that begins to settle in your clothes, hydro doing its best to soothe the cracks on your lips. geo rolls you over so you don’t bruise, dendro adjusting its net of vines to keep you stable.

eventually…

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lvrcpid · 9 months

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pyramids. - F.S

based on : pyramids by frank ocean.

pairing : farleigh start x nb!reader

warnings : drug usage. swearing. slight ooc farleigh. sexual references. kinda short but i’ll be making a part 2.

notes : oh i am SO BACK. 😛 also i love this movie sm.

you always knew you’d end up in college. just at least not at oxford. you always read about the school over the years and it seemed too prim and proper for your liking. a true bore of you will. so when you found yourself in the middle of the campus, hearing the commotion of the students around you, you thought to yourself. “what the fuck did i get myself into?”

your parents were well off, upper middle class even. so when you received a letter inviting you to attend oxford, your family forced you to apply and attend the university. you finally said your goodbyes and finally unpacked. the room had a slight chill and was a bit dreary, even further confirming your suspicions. this school was like purgatory.

the days turned weeks at oxford truly changed your perspective of the entire school. the party life was insane, that’s where you were right now. a party. the music blasted in your ears as the room reeked with the smell of alcohol, cigarettes and weed from here and there. you weren’t exactly sober yourself, having a few drinks you were given by an acquaintance you made over the few weeks.

you held the beer in your hand, walking and slightly pushing people in your way. “excuse me” you mumbled less than pleased at the sight of people completely ignoring your presence. you made one final shove before someone, a boy, swung his head around, cigarette in mouth and said. “are you fucking kidding me?” you weren’t looking where you were going, more so not even paying attention to your drink. when you looked up, the stranger in front of you had beer dripping from his back. “oh shit- man i’m sorry” you said slightly embarrassed, trying to use your jacket to pat the area dry.

“stop just- stop.” you picked up on the fact the stranger was american. it wasn’t foreign to see americans at oxford, you’ve just never actually heard their accents before. “i really am sorry. i wasn’t looking where i was going.” you said, still apologetic and remorseful, still a bit because of the alcohol in your system. “oh whatever it’ll dry- hey i’ve seen you around. you’re that super quiet kid in my literature class. i’m farleigh.” he said, raising his eyebrows in a cocky way and taking a cigarette from his pack. he leaned the pack towards you, offering you one, to which you reject. you want to at least try to live to see 50.

“suit yourself.” he says, looking down at your beer. “i could kill you for messing up my shirt..but i’ll let it slide this time. so, what’s your name mystery person?” he looks down at you. the boy was freakishly tall and now that you’re getting a good look at him. you do recognize his face from your literary class. “y/n.” you said, finishing off your beer. farleigh gave you a look that rocked your world, grabbing your hand and pulling you into the depths of the night.

from that moment, you and farleigh hit it off. he was a party animal, a wild child and it made your heart race. every moment with farleigh was an adventure. you soon realized farleigh was into hard drugs. what drugs you may ask? cocaine. but that just made the ride even wilder. although the friendship was platonic, you and farleigh always found yourselves entangled in dances only lovers would dream of. sneaking away from class to make out on his bed or even sneaking touches and glances, enough to make the strongest weak in the knees. farleigh was a passionate person, it made your body jelly and your blood run ice cold, but only in secret. to him, you were his secret sin.

one night , weeks after you and farleigh came together. he decides to open up to you. about his mother, his struggles and even his home, saltburn. you were curious about this place. so curious to the point farleigh had to silence you with a kiss. it was late at night and the campus was silent, only the sounds of the wind and trees in the background. “how about this..if you want to…only if you want.-“ he said, on the spur, in the heat of the moment;

“how about you visit saltburn for the summer?”

part 2 - monster.

#saltburn x reader #saltburn #farleigh start x reader #farleigh start #saltburn imagine #saltburn ff #farleigh catton #oliver x farleigh #farleigh saltburn #felix catton x reader #archie madekwe #saltburn smut #saltburn 2023

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zwhoreo · 11 months

Note

Why be sad when you can be horny instead? Luffy cheering you up by eating you out #TeamSmut

I’M POSTING AGAIN!! now with my THIRD story about luffy eating you out on the deck of the ship

cheering you up - luffy x f!reader

smut

summary: while you’re lethargic and sad from being on sea for so long, luffy offers oral sex to cheer you up one night

contains: oral (f receiving)

words: 1.9k

_______________________________

You’re sad, not by any particular event but just by the way monotony permeates. The sea is large. It takes a long time to sail between islands, exciting adventures that take a few days are framed by weeks and weeks at sea with nothing other than your friends, your boyfriend, yourself. That last part doesn’t sound so bad, right? Your friends, your boyfriend.

Luffy rests his chin on your shoulder and begs for attention. He’s sprawled all limp and tangled and he’s been whining for the last hour about how bored he is, how much he wants to go exploring and do something fun and even this fancy ship gets boring after awhile, he doesn’t want to look at the fish or play on the deck anymore. You love him but he’s just been so bratty recently, uninterested in anything. You aren’t sure how to entertain him and he just always, always wants to be with you and it’s getting exhausting, you’re so, so tired. So you rest in bed and pet his hair as he complains about wanting to go on adventure and be somewhere else.

Everyone else is irritable and tired, especially because of how hot it’s been recently and nobody likes to rot in the sun in the middle of the ocean. You know what happens with your best friends, where you see them so much that there isn’t much new to talk about? So you’re mostly quiet when you’re sketching with Nami, or reading with Robin, or fishing with Usopp. Or napping with Luffy.

It’s late in the evening but you’re taking a nap anyways, you’re feeling sort of depressed and lethargic and it’s all catching up to you at around 6 PM. You ask for Luffy to come cuddle you even though this is his time to beg Sanji for more food after dinner, the only time of the day he’s really been at his full energy. But he won’t turn you down so he squeezes your hand and pulls you into bed with him.

You lay down. You get under the blankets and take Luffy and tuck him against your chest like a stuffed animal. You can move him around however you want, he won’t mind. He huffs contentedly and quickly goes to sleep with his head between your breasts, clutching you around the waist, snoring loudly.

And even though your eyes hurt and your body’s sore and all you want is to let the rest of the evening slip by in dreams you can’t somehow. You just stay awake with this sweaty boy in your arms, squeezed too tight, and he isn’t a quiet sleeper even when you try to still him so he just squirms and murmurs against you and there’s nothing you can do.

You turn your attention to caring for him, just trying for some sort of comfort. You kiss his greasy hair and whisper little compliments, you massage his back, he loves your touch so much, smiling against you in his dreams. This makes you happy but you still feel sick in your heart, uncomfortable and tired and lonely. The room suddenly feels too hot, oppressive, you need to leave and go get some fresh air.

So, because you don’t want to wake him, you eventually ease a pillow into Luffy’s arms in the absence of your embrace. You slip out of bed, you need fresh air.

There’s a spot you’ve found, a support platform halfway up the tallest mast. You go here when you want to be alone. You’re rocked and the world tilts as the waves crash beneath you, climbing higher, higher. Your feet are bare against the rope ladder, thick knots digging into the soles of your feet. But now on this platform you can breathe. You can see every single star and galaxy from here, black purple blue, a glimmering ballroom of constellations that mirror the wine-dark sea. You are the world’s meridian.

Your body turns off, mind drifting away because you’ve always loved outer space. If you were floating a million light years away then everything would just disappear which sounds nice right now. You close your eyes. You are the universe.

But your body is shaken by the sudden rocking of the mast, you have to scurry to keep from falling as the wood creaks. The loud snap of elastic, a body slams next to you with a clumsy bounce and there he sits, legs spread, looking at you with huge, curious eyes.

“Hey Luffy,” you move close to him. You don’t want to be in the stars if you can’t take him with you.

“Whatcha doin’?” He's quiet, wistful. He looks a little hurt to have been left alone, he doesn’t understand.

“Just needed some air. It’s ok, you can stay,” you say even though he would’ve stayed anyway.

He takes your hand, tracing your fingers, off in his own little world. You feel sad and lonely again. This is your boyfriend, why can’t you talk to him? Tell him how you feel. It doesn’t matter if he doesn’t understand, really, he’ll just be there for you. But don’t make him worry, don’t make him upset. But no, tell him, you have to talk to him or you’ll cry right now. Right now.

“I’ve been sad,” you whisper to the ocean below.

“Hm?” Luffy’s arms wrap around you slowly. He presses his cheek to yours, searching your face, so confused. “How come?”

“I don’t know, it’s hard to explain. Sometimes I just get kinda depressed being on this ship for so long between islands, you know? Especially when everyone else is bored and tired, and when the weather’s bad. And we’re low on food, I’m sick of fish. I’m just getting frustrated all the time and I hate it.” Once you start to let it out you can’t stop. You wipe your face with your hands, sniffing.

He listens, not speaking, not moving except for those hands rubbing yours. And when you’re done he puts his chin on your shoulder. “Yeah, me too. I get what ya mean.” But soon his face is against yours again, so tender now. “Can I help make you feel better, though?”

You smile. You’re so glad you told him, he’s so sweet and good to you. “Yeah, I’d like that.”

“Hey, this’ll make ya happier! Nami told me we’re close to an island, the tide’s changing or somethin’!”

“Really? How long?” He’s right, you do feel happier.

“Mm, I dunno that part.” His chin’s back on your shoulder. “I’m sorry, I shoulda asked.”

“That’s ok.” You sigh, but you’re still smiling. “It’s enough to know we’re close.”

“Yeah, but you’re still not feelin’ well. An island in the future is no good if you’re feeling bad tonight, huh?”

“My body hurts… I’ve been sitting and resting too much, I think.” It’s true, your legs are sore and heavy. Bones have turned to stone in their hibernation.

“Yeah? Let’s take care of that.” His hands go to you, rubbing your thighs beneath the silk of your night dress, your waist, your shoulders. “Mm, hey, you wanna play? Would that make you happier and make yer body not hurt so much?” He’s murmuring into your ear, smiling with his teeth.

“What kinda play?”

“Sex? You wanna have sex? It’s been awhile.” Luffy licks his lips, mind racing. “I could… eat ya? Y’know, that thing we do sometimes? Where I-”

“Please,” you say so quickly. Maybe this is therapy you crave. Release all this time before you start anew, release it for him to devour.

He laughs loudly, sitting back against the mast. “Heh, ok, lie down and lemme hold you. I got you, love.” His eyes twinkle.

You face him, you get on your back on the wood, head turned away toward the endless stretch of night and sea. And Luffy wraps his arms around your thighs, propping your legs up, spread for him, you feel him nuzzle your thigh and huff against you as he returns to this scent he loves.

You both breathe as one in a long, deep rhythm as his nose presses against you there, right there. Soft moist warmth for Luffy, damp lacy fabric perfect to chew and taste. Teeth gnaw on you through your panties, dull but hungry. You pulse there with every swallow against nothing, nerves lighting you up down to your toes.

“You’re teasing me…” you whine, reminding him of where he is.

“Heh, sorry.” But he’s lost in you, he’s not in any hurry. Until, of course, his tongue catches the arousal that drips out of you and that’s where he needs to go, he decides.

So he casually rips away your panties and smiles at what’s his. You’re at the center of his world and this is how he’ll feast on the meridian.

He quickly bites your clit, not hard but enough to make your whole body twitch. He’s so good at doing what you’ve taught him. And god he does look stunning from here, he pushes his hat back and shiny, jet-black hair tickles your inner thighs. You run your hand through it and tug, curling your body up to stroke his cheek and now you’ve got his attention, you just wanted to see those big, chocolate eyes.

It’s with care that he dips his tongue lower, slowly lapping at you as you get wetter for him, he’s getting loud now as he usually does and the vibrations from his moaning makes you tremble in his arms. And when you tremble, he squeezes you tighter. Warm arms, so different from the sky.

Closer, closer, it’s almost painful it’s so deep and perfect. Your hips move on instinct, riding his tongue, pulling you into this vortex, deep and deeper it comes in waves. The ship rocks and you sway together.

He buzzes against you with a shiver and a sound of joy when your orgasm hits deep. You moan and reach for him immediately and he looks up at you, mouth soaked, he asks, “ya done? Feel better?” smile unbroken.

“Mhm, a lot better.” And he’s in your arms now. You cuddle on that little wooden platform beneath the moon. The heartache and soreness and exhaustion is all new and perfect now. So much better.

“Hey thanks for cheering me up. You felt so good, Lu.” Your voice is a quiet whisper on the wind as you stroke his hair, his muscles twitch around you with the remnants of that powerful joy.

“Heh, tasted good. Glad you’re ok. This mean you’ll come back and sleep with me now?” He’s tilting his head like a little puppy, your scent warm on his breath.

“Yeah. But I wanna watch the stars for a little longer.” You lay against him. You’re sitting, now, interlocked and inseparable. You drip down there from him, so warm against the wood, nerves still on fire. And those stars up there are all suns, you know. They’re all on fire too. You’re amazed at how alight the night is. And this wind from the east, I guess this is what it means to be close to land. Those clouds, maybe that’s what they mean too, shot with colors from no direction, full and aimless.

Luffy is content with you. He’s ok with you watching the sky. All he says is, “that’s alright. Long as I can stay here and hold ya.”

#luffy x reader #one piece #luffy #one piece x reader #one piece fanfiction #luffy x y/n #luffy x you #one piece smut #luffy x reader smut #luffy smut #luffy x f!reader

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kittenintheden · 2 months

Text

I Slit the Throat of Your Confidence

oh hi there did you guys order the Astari'zel hatesex (except not really but kind of but not really)? here that is for you. mind the tags please.

AO3 link for bookmarking

Rating: E Pairing: Astarion/Lae'zel Word Count: 5.5k Content: 18+, rough sex, fighting kink, blood play, blood drinking, blood kink, these bitches fight as foreplay, oral sex, fingerfucking, edging, orgasm denial, biting, scratching, reads like hatesex but is kind of more like respectsex, they're matching energy, BDSM themes

Lae’zel misses Créche K’liir. Desperately.

The gray, porous rock with its endless twining mess of hollows and caves was a young githyanki’s dream, ripe for guerilla warfare and games of Capture the Crest that inevitably turned to bloodshed. Many of the chambers were stained rusty brown from the generations before, and she’d added layers of her own in time.

Being terrestrial leaves much to be desired. It is not her first time among the istik and groundwalkers – she’d been on reconnaissance missions to the vast caverns under the place they call Waterdeep many times before. She’d been preparing for her first true test, her first scout command, when the ghaik vessel passed their asteroid by and pulled her and a handful of clutchmates into its web.

And now she is here, her fate as much as sealed if she’s to continue working with this blundering band of… adventurers. All of her advisement to abandon the ridiculous teethling – tiefling – weaklings and reach the nearest créche had fallen on ignorant ears. It is by sheer tenacity and the will of Vlaakith alone that they have not become that which she is duty-sworn to kill.

Instead, they are having a… party.

Lae’zel’s lip curls as she watches the others making merry and growing more intoxicated by the hour alongside a gaggle of their horned charges. Sparks fly through the air from one wizard or another, younglings lurk about undisciplined, and the choices for stress relief are sorely lacking. They all smell of alcohol and hope. She’lak and shka’keth.

She rolls her eyes and folds her arms, casting her judging eyes over those remaining reasonably in control of their faculties. There’s the human-turned-devil, who smells of soft history but well-worn struggle, as well. He’s a possibility, she supposes.

A glance to the side reveals her first companion, the one called Tav, deep in conversation and their cups with that sniping half-elf cleric of some terrestrial god. Lae’zel cares not for the details.

Another scent passes by her keen nose and she looks the other way, regarding its source. The dainty elf smells of blood and death, of course. He’d revealed his vampiric nature not but a few nights prior, and while she deeply mistrusts every silky word that drips from his wretched tongue, she can’t deny that he seems well-learned in the art of carnal pleasure. At least, he claims as much, but she’s seen the way he moves. She’s seen the way he hunts. His words may be hollow, but the body doesn’t lie.

The decision is made, then.

She approaches Astarion just as he takes a drink from his misbegotten bottle of wine. He pulls a face and glances her way.

“Oh, hello,” he says in that lilting, maddening way of his. “Decided to partake after all, rather than simply glowering from the shadows, have you?”

Lae’zel plants her feet shoulder-width apart and folds her arms, eyes tracking from his overwrought hair all the way down to his nimble feet and back again.

Astarion points at her from around the bottle and leans in. “This is the part where you respond with your words, darling.”

The scent overlaying the death note that lingers on him is pleasant enough, after all.

She jerks her chin his way. “I tire of this pathetic attempt at revelry. I suspect you do, as well.”

“There we go,” he says, the tip of a fang flashing past his lips as he gives a half smile. He takes another drink and pulls another face. “Ugh, you’re not wrong. Even the wine is terrible.”

He tosses it aside and seems entirely unbothered by the sound of shattering glass. When he turns back her way, he rubs his fingers together as he regards her before gesturing in her direction. “Was there something I could help you with in that regard or did you just come over here to stare unnervingly?”

Lae’zel takes a step closer, into his personal space, and he stiffens defensively, narrowing his eyes at her. “Your scent reminds me of home. Of wounds sustained in battle, of slain enemies scattered across the stone.”

Astarion gives her a long, slow blink. “Is this your idea of endearing small talk? Not that I’m complaining.”

“Ch’k.” She leans her weight onto her back foot. “I am informing you that I find you a reasonable choice for an evening of carnality.”

“Ah,” he says with a mirthless laugh, looking past her off into the distance. “Of course you do.” His usual bravado is curiously subdued, which she finds of interest.

“Are you not amicable?” she says. “I will take my interest elsewhere.”

She turns to do just that and pauses as he says, “Wait.”

He’s looking at her with hooded eyes, head tilted to one side. “I didn’t say I wasn’t interested,” he says, voice lower in timbre. “You caught me off-guard, is all. I didn’t think you cared for me much.”

“I don’t,” she responds. “I find your theatrics tedious and your fighting style chaotic. But you are nonetheless an appealing candidate for coitus, and that is my present interest.”

“How did I ever manage to lure in such a sweet-talker?” he drawls, sighing in exasperation. Then he cocks a brow. “But fine. I could do with a bit of fun, and the sort you’re proposing is of far more interest to me than anything I’ll find here.”

She nods, unsurprised, and says, “Good. Then meet me after the revelry has run its course. I shall be waiting at the ruins nearby.”

Lae’zel walks away without waiting for his response. Behind her, she hears him say, “See you later, then. Lover.”

“Do not call me that,” she says without turning.

***

She paces the length of the ruins, hands clasped behind her back. There’s no nerviness to her gait, no tension in her shoulders. The vampire will come to her, or he will not. Those are the only possibilities, and whichever outcome occurs, she will deal with the fallout. Fretting over what could be makes a warrior weak. There is only the now.

Astarion makes himself known with a gentle clearing of the throat and she whirls to regard him. His approach was nigh-silent, but that’s hardly a surprise.

He leans with an arm on a pillar, one foot crossed casually over the other, but his relaxed posture does not fool her. Lae’zel know how quickly he can move.

“You came,” she says, allowing the slightest smile. “Good.”

He flicks his hand at her as she approaches. “How could I possibly turn down an invitation as intriguing as ‘meet the deadly extraplanar girl in the abandoned ruins so she can either come on me or kill me.’” He leans in and gives her a smirk. “Maybe she’ll do both.”

Lae’zel scoffs, circling him with her hands still behind her back. “Remove your clothes, istik. I will allow you the honor of pleasing me at my direction. If I deem you worthy, I may offer pleasure in return.”

Astarion gives a sharp laugh and pushes off the pillar, facing her. “No, no, no. I don’t think so. You came to me, darling. And why is that?”

She pauses, narrowing her eyes. “Have I been unclear as to the nature of this meeting?” she says. She honestly hadn’t thought the man a complete idiot, but even she can make a mistake.

“Oh, no, you were very clear.” Astarion steps closer, his head moving from one side to the other as he regards her like a predator would. It raises her hackles. “What I’d like to know is why you seem so certain I’ll be the one taking orders. You’re the one with a…” He trails his gaze from her face down the length of her toned torso and back up. “... need.”

Lae’zel does not cower. She does not suffer weaklings. And she does not back down from a challenge.

Her hand spreads wide on his chest and she effortlessly forces him back until he’s pressed up against the pillar he started from. To his credit, he doesn’t gasp, nor do his eyes go wide with fear. Instead, his expression remains amused. Interested.

“I do not submit to inferiors,” she growls.

“So why…” He raises one eyebrow. “... did you come…” His grin widens, exposing his fangs. “... to my tent?”

Despite herself, Lae’zel feels her gaze fall to his mouth, all pale lips and sharp teeth. Her eyes flick back up to meet his.

“I thought you a worthy adversary,” she admits at last.

“Ah,” he whispers. “There it is.”

Then he shoves off the pillar with strength that surprises her and crushes his mouth to hers, putting her just enough off balance to stagger back a step. He takes the second of advantage to fist his long fingers in the back of her hair and hook his leg behind hers.

Lae’zel’s heart thrums at the promise of a fight.

He’s fast. But she is gith.

With practiced skill, she counterbalances herself to thwart his attempt to sweep her leg. He meets resistance and overcorrects, and that’s her opening. She twists her arm up under his and uses the momentum to spin him around so she can get him in a modified headlock. From behind, she leans in close to his ear.

“As I said,” she hisses softly. “I do not submit to inferiors. So show me you are not one.”

Without so much as a sardonic quip, he stomps on her insole with his full weight and bites her arm at the same time. Lae’zel is not often surprised, but the absolute audacity of the move throws her long enough for him to twist free. When he turns to look at her from several feet away, he smirks and goes to wipe the small smear of blood from the corner of his mouth.

“Chaotic enough for you?” he teases.

In response, she surges forward, moving like liquid mercury, and fakes him out with a right hook to block while she brings her left hand up to cuff him squarely under the chin.

“Bleeding hells,” he swears as he stumbles back, fingers going to his jaw. There’s a flash of fury on his face, of spite and vengeance. Then it’s gone, replaced by a calculating look. His lip curls back, showing teeth, and his pupils dilate. He moves to circle her and she responds by moving in the opposite direction, keeping their same distance. Astarion’s fingers clench and flex, clench and flex.

“Gloves off, then,” he says, voice low and breathy.

She raises her hands in a ready stance, welcoming an attack. “I never said they were on.”

A thin trail of blood drips down her arm from the bite. Astarion’s eyes snap to it and his mouth twitches as if he’s preparing to bite again, teeth peeking. He tenses to pounce and looks her in the face again.

“If you want blood,” she says warningly. “You must take it from me. If you can.”

That’s all he needs in the way of permission, if that’s in fact what he sought. Astarion springs forward like a tightened coil, using what little he has on her by way of body weight to catch her around the middle and send her staggering back. Again, he goes to hook her ankle and send her off balance, and again she adjusts to match him. Just as she raises her elbows to bring them down squarely in the center of his back, he releases her unexpectedly and steps around behind, turning with the grace and speed of a trained dancer.

He brings up his foot and kicks, connecting with the small of her back using all the leverage he has to shove her forward. This time, he actually manages it. For one solitary second, she loses her footing, and then he is on her from behind, looping an arm through both of her elbows and pulling them back so her sternum arches out sharply. She hisses from the strain in her shoulders.

And before she can regain the upper hand, he sinks his teeth into the side of her neck. It is an icy sting, foreign and sharp, and her warrior’s instinct immediately looses a battle cry that echoes throughout her ribcage. She cannot fall. She will not fall.

Astarion manages to get a few healthy pulls from her before she wrenches herself away, hand going to the wound he left there. It comes away bloodied and she raises her gaze to his face.

He looks like a creature possessed. The carefully crafted hair he maintains much to her disdain is falling from its coif and his mouth and chin are smeared with her gore. His tongue licks at his scarlet-stained teeth and he grins, feral, shoulders hunched forward and pupils blown out so wide she can scarcely see the irises of his eyes. When he moves, he jitters, jerky and unnatural. Nothing like the smooth flow of his usual airs.

A lesser woman would be terrified.

Lae’zel is not a lesser woman.

When he comes at her again, she drops, rolling onto her rear and back and using his own momentum against him. She takes him by the shoulders and continues to yank him up over her head, following after until she can push herself over top of him, pressing her thigh firmly between his legs. He makes a noise up at her from the stone floor, a trilling, growling sort of purr.

She silences him with her mouth over his, tongue running over his mouth before dipping inside and tasting the cosmic metal of her own blood on him. When she pulls back, her face matches his.

“Nasty thing,” Astarion says. “This is what gets you going, hm?”

He flexes his thigh, trapped between her own, and she feels the first teasing tingle of pleasure pull at her core.

Lae’zel laughs, heady with violence. “You think me affected, istik?” Quick as a heartbeat, she snakes her hand down between his legs and he chokes off a gasp as she firmly grips his cock through his clothes, the length of him gone fully hard against his leg. Her hold is strong, just barely on the right side of painful, and she feels a pulse go through him. “I have never seen a groundwalker so aroused by the promise of blood. Are you as excited at the prospect of pain?”

With that, she grabs the split of his shirt with her free hand and tears it open, the fabric splitting with a satisfying rip. He cries out in indignation, then again when she sinks her own teeth into the flesh of his chest. When she’s satisfied, she sits up, then stands and backs away from him, leaving him staring at the fresh bite on his skin with an expression of shock and interest.

He glares at her and pushes himself up to standing, his erection now very clearly visible through his fitted trousers. A flap of his torn shirt flutters in the slight breeze moving through the space and he flicks at it.

“I just found this shirt,” he growls. “Do you have any idea how difficult it is to find something out here that doesn’t look like it’s been through six generations of peasantry?”

She grins back at him, swaying from foot to foot. “And what are you going to do about it?”

He pulls the shirt loose from where it’s tucked and shucks it off, using it to wipe the worst of the mess from his face before tossing it aside. His skin is like marble in the moonlight, pale and solid stretched over the muscle beneath.

“I’d run, were I you,” he says.

“I do not run,” she answers.

Astarion springs and they lock arms again. It is a battle of speed versus strength, cunning versus training. Every time she gets the upper hand, he finds a way to free himself and get her back in turn. Round and round they go, bruises and bites, tongue and touch.

When he next gets her on her back, his forearm presses her to the ground just below her windpipe. He does not throttle her, but he’s making it clear that he could. Instead, his lips soften slightly, pulling over his bared teeth, and he appraises her face. She writhes and wraps both legs around his waist, intending to flip him, but he has his full weight across her torso and one of her arms pinned to the stones.

“Will you relent?” he says, tilting his head to one side and sounding for all the world as if he’s asking to kiss her.

“I will not,” she pants, writhing again. “You do not have me yet.”

“Hm,” he hums, eyes roving over her face once more. “Then I’ll consider this an opportunity.”

“An opportunity to wh-” she starts.

Astarion grinds himself into the cradle of her hips, hard. She feels the rigid length of him roll along the crux of her legs and her eyes shutter closed.

“She likes that, I think,” Astarion purrs.

He does it again.

“A break, perhaps?” His own voice is starting to go reedy. “Exchange pain for a bit of pleasure?”

“I will…” She pulls in a shaking breath, warmth blooming in her center, pulsing with a fierce edge of adrenaline. “... allow it.”

He rolls off her instantly, going to his back beside her, and begins wrestling with his own fastenings, nearly clumsy in his desperation to remove his remaining clothing. Lae’zel follows suit, albeit more efficiently. Her clothing and underthings are unfussy, made for utility far more than form. Astarion’s only just kicking off his bottoms when she climbs atop him, straddling his torso with her powerful thighs on either side and holding herself up out of his immediate reach.

She jerks her head down at him. “You wish to show me you are worthy of my gifts?” she says. “Then give me your hand.”

Astarion narrows his eyes at her, mistrustful, but he does as she asks, holding up a hand. Lae’zel accepts it.

“Good,” she says. “Now pay attention.”

Then she moves both of their hands between her legs, manipulating his fingers as she’d like them.

“I assume I am your first githyanki,” she breathes as his fingers brush her sensitive places. “I will only teach this once.”

She takes his middle finger and touches it to a tender place to one side of her slit. “Here.” She moves it across to mirror a spot on the other side. “Here.” Then she takes his thumb and places the pad over the spot at the front, a harder ridge that would normally be a hood on a softer species. “And here.”

He continues to watch her, his tongue peeking out to lick his lip.

“This is called kalach’ra k’rel vah, the points of the star,” she says. “Skilled lovers can hit all three at once and ah-”

“Like this?” Astarion lilts as he instantly relocates all three points and presses them hard with the tips of his fingers. “Or perhaps this?” He twists his wrist and brushes over the hot spots in a sweeping motion.

“Ah,” Lae’zel says again, radiant pleasure expanding deep in her belly. She tips forward and grips his biceps for support.

“Am I doing it right?”

Now he’s teasing her and she does not approve but oh Vlaakith'ka sivim hrath krash'ht if his detestable lockpicking habit isn’t working out in her favor at exactly this moment.

“Stay your fool tongue,” Lae’zel gasps, arching into his touch and canting her hips in time with him. A tingle twines up her spine like a serpent.

“Is that really what you want?” he says as he tilts his head back and curls his tongue out past his teeth in an obscene show.

“Ch’k,” she breathes. Loathe as she is to give so much as an inch, she cannot deny that she’d dearly love to shut him up. She pulls his face to hers, taking that wretched tongue against her own. The kiss is fierce and deep, leaving both of their lips cut from it.

Lae’zel wraps a hand around the back of his head and yanks it to one side, her face going to his neck. She inhales deeply, sweat and blood and death and life and fight. Then she runs her tongue along the vein climbing the column of his throat and keeps going along the edge of his ear.

Beneath her, Astarion bucks hard enough that she feels the head of his cock strike her thigh. A long groan sounds from deep in his chest and he twists, mouth pressed to her neck, and the wet heat of his tongue is stroking up to the place near her jaw.

She pulls back to place another bruising kiss on his mouth. When she pulls him back by the hair, she says, “As you were.”

He curls his lip at her in a snarl, but dutifully returns his hand to its work between her legs. Lae’zel lolls back and rolls against him as he plays her like gith are all he knows.

After a moment or two of blissful, bone-deep, aching pleasure in near silence, Astarion breaks it again.

“Anything else?” He tries to sound bored, but the winded words don’t fool her. His arousal must be growing unbearable.

Lae’zel rises and falls against him, trying to get the friction she needs. “Inside,” she breathes. “Partway up, softer than the rest.”

Without another word, Astarion slides two fingers across her and inside, exploring but a moment before he finds the place she indicated.

Lae’zel howls to the sky through the broken ceiling, praising the stars in Vlaakith’s name for the boiling knot of tension that will feel better than githyanki silver at release, better than the eternity of the Astral Plane, better even than riding a dragon-

Astarion pulls his hand away and lays back.

Her howl turns to one of rage as her head whips down to meet his knowing smirk. Even as his own breaths become shallow with need, he teases.

“Can’t let you have all the fun,” he says, examining the hand that had just been giving her such ecstasy. He glances back up. “I just wanted you to know that I’m capable, should you like to, oh, I don’t know…” He waves his hand through the air. “Admit that I’m not an inferior.”

The tempest behind Lae’zel’s eyes flickers in warning. Then she does the most terrifying thing she ever does – she smiles.

She’s off him in an instant and Astarion sits up on his elbows to watch, trying to figure out her next move. By the time he does, her face is already dangerously close to his cock and he’s having a sudden avalanche of regrets about certain previous choices.

“Ah, ah, I like that where it is very much,” he chides nervously.

Lae’zel holds his eye and continues lowering herself.

Astarion tenses. “Seriously, watch the teeth, watch the teeth the teeth the-”

Then she takes him down deep, mouth and tongue sliding over his length, and Astarion fully understands that githyanki tongues are uniquely textured.

“-the tee- oh.” One of his eyes twitches a bit as his expression goes slack in pleasant surprise. “Oh, that’s very… mmmn.” He collapses onto his back. “Okay.”

Lae’zel is honestly tempted to bring teeth into the mix anyway simply to teach him his place, but even she must begrudgingly admit that the elegant arch of an elf losing himself to the pleasure of her mouth is an alluring sight. His chest twitches as it rises and falls with his breath, his head thrown back and brows furrowed as if in concentration, lips pulled back to reveal the tips of his teeth.

Alluring, indeed.

“That shouldn’t be allowed,” he grits out, cracking his eyes open once more to peer down at her.

She nearly pulls off him for his ignorance, but instead she moves her tongue back, firms the tip, and runs it around the entirety of his glans. That’s always the most sensitive part for gith, and if the anatomy translates…

Astarion arches his back clean off the ground and snarls out a curse.

Lae’zel truly thinks she has him right where she wants him. Up until he sits back up on his elbow, tents his knee, and tangles his fingers into the back of her hair, an inferno in his eyes as he smolders down at her. Slowly, he thrusts into her mouth deeper, testing the water to determine whether she can take it.

She meets the intensity in his gaze and pushes herself still farther.

She never backs down from a challenge.

His fingers twist tighter in her hair and his hips begin to snap harder, fucking her mouth until he’s hitting the root of her tongue, then the back of her throat. Githyanki do have a gag reflex, but Lae’zel has trained to suppress hers for any number of applicable reasons. Perhaps she did not originally intend this one, but it applies nonetheless.

“Shit,” the elf spits, eyes falling shut as he continues to thrust, hand holding her in place as he does. “Gods, that’s not fair.”

Fair. As if anything about this union has ever been about what’s fair.

She’ll remind him.

His toned thigh flexes as he continues to leverage himself in a steady pumping rhythm that would not under any circumstances be considered gentle. He pants out his breath as the force of it leaves trails of her saliva trailing down. There’s not enough time or relief between thrusts for her to swallow. His loss, that.

When she’s decided she’s had enough of his antics, she puts her palms on his hipbones and pins him to the ground. He bucks against her in vain. Not as weak as she initially anticipated, especially not in his legs, but her muscles are corded steel. He groans out his frustration.

She pulls up and off of him unhurriedly, raising her head until she can look down upon him. His breath huffs angrily as he glares from beneath his furrowed brow, the tips of his elven ears flushed with borrowed blood and his cock shiny and slick from her mouth.

“Surely you did not expect to finish so easily,” she says, her words slightly raspier than they were. “Not while I’m left wanting. That is not why we came here, k’chaki.”

“No,” he says lowly as he pushes himself up to sitting so he’s at level with her. “We came here for a godsdamned fuck.”

He shoves her back and she goes, caught off guard for once. He crawls over her as she flips herself onto her belly, set to push back. Astarion slams one hand down over one of her wrists, and the other hand down over the other, and grips them both tight, laying his full weight over her.

She hears the shiver in his voice as he leans close and says, “Tell me to stop if you don’t want this.”

Lae’zel rolls her hips and draws up her legs to spread herself for him.

“As you were,” she whispers.

A low sound rumbles through Astarion’s chest as he grips her hips tight and presses himself into her. They combine in a way that is at once familiar and alien. It leaves them both crying out.

Lae’zel feels the prick of Astarion’s nails deep in the skin of her thighs. She wraps both hands around his forearms and digs her sharpened nails into him in kind.

His hips snap, thrusting into her hard and fast. Lae’zel drowns in sensation, of his cock stroking in and out, of his heated breath against her neck, of the scent of all that grounds her all around. With a surprising amount of awkwardness given his typical precision, Astarion fumbles a hand around to the front of her and attempts to find the places on her body she’d shown him before. It takes him a moment, but he manages, leaning heavily over her as they move.

Lae’zel’s mind blanks in bliss, the warming wave of first pleasure sweeping over her as he continues to move. She moans through it, a string of githyanki praises and blessings spilling past her lips.

Above her, Astarion’s breathing is labored. “Hells below, did you?” he gasps. “Tell me you did.”

With one more slight moan, Lae’zel pushes herself up, her back against his chest and forces him back as he bites back a curse. He pulls out of her and she turns, the movement lazy, and leans in to grip his jaw with one hand and pay him another kiss.

When they break, she says, “I have reached the cliff. The edge is near.”

“The fuck does that mean?” Astarion huffs in exasperation. His curls are flat now, falling around his face damp with sweat.

Lae’zel grins and pulls him to standing, putting both hands on his chest and backing him up to the nearest wall. She lays her body across him fully, letting the skin-to-skin contact send echoes of pleasure over her. This is the euphoric state, the one just before clarity. It is the only time she would dare let a soul call her “cuddly” and not immediately suffer an ignoble death.

She runs her tongue over his chest and peers up into his face. “It means that this…” she reaches a hand between them to take his cock in hand and hears his sharp intake of breath. “... feels almost as good for me as it does you, until the heat comes.”

“Again,” Astarion says with a slight wheeze. “What the fuck does that mean?”

In response, Lae’zel begins pumping him with long, firm strokes that make his eyes go half-lidded.

“I mean,” he slurs. “I’d had other plans, but I can live… with this…”

She leans in close. “It is temporary.”

“Don’t care what that means anymore,” he murmurs as she works him.

He arches against the wall and breathes oh-oh. Lae’zel can feel the heat, her heat, rising off his skin. The muscles underneath. The way everything twitches as he gets nearer and nearer. Her eyes watch his face, marveling. These terrestrial races, they are so strange, and somehow so beautiful.

Deep in her core, the cinders flicker back to life and Lae’zel’s initial pre-orgasm high falls to flame as her arousal comes back like a roaring bonfire. It’s so overpowering that she nearly misses the telltale signs that Astarion’s almost done for. His brow is pinched and fluttering moans keep escaping past his lips. She feels a swelling beneath her touch.

And she stops and steps back.

“No!” Astarion groans out his disappointment. “Gods damn it, no, I was right there.”

She grips him by the jaw and makes him look at her. His glare could melt metal.

“Has your edge returned to you?” Lae’zel says.

“You might bloody well say that,” he snarls.

She puts her hands on his shoulders. “Then use it.”

With an animalistic growl, Astarion puts his hands on the backs of her thighs and she jumps to wrap her legs around his waist. He whirls them both and slams her against the wall, its cold stone cooling her overheated skin and its rough surface keeping her present. There’s a few seconds more of adjustment before he pushes back inside her, effectively pinning her to the wall with his hips as he grabs her wrists and presses them into the stone above her head.

As soon as he gets the balance right, he begins fucking into her without additional thought, hips grinding together tightly. Lae’zel shuts her eyes and grins as the force of it appeases the desire inside her, feeding the fire until it grows, and grows, and–

She doesn’t even hear the cry that escapes her lips as the light inside her bursts, its luminance igniting every cell. The world around her rings, all other noise coming to her as if underwater.

When she finally comes down enough to hear again, Astarion is saying something to her.

“What?” she manages.

He presses his mouth right up against her ear, continuing to pump into her. “I said…” Thrust. “... is it all right…” Thrust. “... to finish…” Thrust. “... inside?”

Lae’zel’s laugh is high-pitched. Delirious. “Yes, fool, you may come inside.”

“Fucking finally,” Astarion groans.

His thrusts go slow as his body tenses against her. Then he leans his full weight against her and the wall with a stuttering cry as, she assumes, he comes his entire soul out.

Afterward, they’re reclining nude on the nearby blanket catching their breath. Lae’zel glances his way.

“Are you actually required to ask permission to, ah. Complete inside someone?” she asks.

Astarion gives her an incredibly put-upon look. “I asked because it’s polite, you weird arsehole.” He winces as he rolls his shoulder, poking at a new bruise. “One of us could try to bring a little decorum.”

She smirks and looks out the ruined archway. “You were most enthusiastic tonight,” she says.

“Well.” He lays back on one of the folded up blankets. “Not every day you encounter someone open to certain, you know. Proclivities.”

Lae’zel nods. “I may have use for you again in the future.”

Astarion gives a sharp laugh to the night sky.

#astarion x lae'zel #astari'zel #astarion smut #astarion fanfic #astarion fic #bg3 #kitten writes

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kinascum · 2 months

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I can imagine Chris taking his girlfriend on a vacation for their 1 year and immediately eating her out as soon as your in your hotel room

oh boy do I have a blurb for you..

"I've been looking forward to this for weeks," Chris said, his eyes gleaming with excitement as he squeezed your hand.

The air had the scent of saltwater and the promise of adventure as you stepped off the plane. You couldn't help but sigh with relief as the tropical breeze kissed your skin, whispering sweet nothings of relaxation and romance. This was it: the vacation of a lifetime, a celebration of your one-year anniversary with the love of your life.

Chris had planned everything to the last detail, keeping most of it a surprise. You had no idea where you were going until the boarding announcement echoed through the airport. Now, with the warm sun shining down and the sound of waves crashing in the distance, you felt like you'd stumbled into a dream.

The taxi ride to the hotel was a blur of color and laughter, the kind that left your cheeks hurting and your stomach tight from joy. The moment the bellhop opened the door to your suite, you gasped. It was like stepping into a postcard, all white linens and ocean views, the perfect canvas for the memories you were about to paint.

Chris was already at the bed, tossing your luggage aside with a hungry look in his eyes. "Before we unpack," he murmured, his voice a low rumble that sent shivers down your spine, "I have something else in mind."

He took a step closer, and the room seemed to shrink around you, the air growing heavier with anticipation. His hands found the hem of your dress, lifting it up inch by inch. "Chris," you breathed, but his mouth was on yours before you could say another word, stealing your protests and replacing them with a gasp.

The kiss was like a brand, marking you as his, a promise of the passion that awaited you. His hands roamed over your body, familiar yet thrilling, as he worked to remove the barriers between you. The heat grew, the air thickening with desire as you stumbled backward onto the bed.

And then, without warning, he was gone. Your eyes snapped open to find him kneeling before you, his gaze burning with an intensity that made your heart race. "Let me make this first moment together something truly special," he whispered, his voice hoarse with want.

You nodded, unable to speak, as he began to kiss his way down your body. His touch was gentle, almost reverent, as if he were exploring a sacred place for the first time. Each kiss left a trail of fire in its wake, setting your skin alight.

The moment his mouth found yours again, you realized what he meant. This was more than just a vacation—it was the start of a new chapter in your love story, one filled with passion and discovery. And as he continued to worship you with his lips and tongue, you couldn't help but wonder what other surprises awaited you in this tropical paradise.

You felt the coolness of the sheets against your skin as he carefully removed the last of your clothing, leaving you bare before him. His eyes devoured you, a silent declaration of his love and desire. Your heart thudded in your chest, each beat echoing in your ears like a drumroll leading up to the grand finale.

Chris took his time, savoring every inch of you, his mouth leaving a trail of kisses down your neck, across your collarbone, and along the curve of your breasts. You moaned softly, arching into his touch, your body already singing with pleasure. The anticipation was exquisite, a delicious tension that coiled tightly in your core.

When he finally reached the apex of your thighs, you were trembling, your breath coming in ragged gasps. He looked up, a wicked smile playing on his lips, and you knew that he enjoyed watching you squirm under his touch. "Ready?" he asked, his voice a playful rumble. You nodded, eyes glazed with need.

With one swift movement, he settled between your legs and kissed you intimately, his tongue darting and exploring. The sensation was overwhelming, a symphony of pleasure that had you crying out his name. Your hands found their way into his hair, holding him closer as the waves of ecstasy began to build.

The room spun around you, the only anchor his steady rhythm and the sound of the ocean outside. Each stroke was a promise, each lick a declaration of his love. You felt yourself spiraling higher, lost in the warmth and wetness of his mouth, the world outside fading away until all that remained was the two of you.

The tension grew, coiling tighter and tighter, until you thought you might break. And then, with a final, masterful flick of his tongue, you did. Your body convulsed, a silent scream escaping your lips as the orgasm crashed over you like a tidal wave.

Chris pulled away, a smug smile on his face as he watched the aftershocks roll through you. "Happy anniversary," he murmured, his eyes dark with desire. The celebration had only just begun.

#paxi talks #paxi's stuff #matt sturniolo #chris sturniolo #nick sturniolo #matt sturniolo x reader #sturniolo triplets #christopher sturniolo #sturniolo imagine #chris sturniolo x reader #paxi's asks

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bornagainmurdock · 3 months

Text

my controversial matt murdock headcannons pt2

contents: sfw, very all over the place, but i'm sure you expected that

word count: .5k

has a playlist he listens to when he's getting ready to go on patrol that's full of 90s pop classics, including vogue by madonna and just a girl by no doubt

thinks about officially learning how to ballroom dance but is too scared to trip and fall in front of everyone, so he just practices in his apartment by himself

every song foggy has ever played for him is in a playlist called 'fog's favorites'

spotify user but doesn't pay for it, gets really frustrated when ads play but refuses to pay bc "It's the prinicpal of it all, you see they take music, a human thing and make you pay for it. that's unethical"

still owns a jump rope from when he was a kid but refuses to use it because he doesn't want to break it

has a large candle and mug collection bc he once said he likes coffee and when things smell good and now everyone gets him mugs and candles as gifts even though he refuses to have fire in the apartment

scared of fire in a way that is so visceral and upsetting

but loves a fireplace and listening to music and drinking a hot drink out of one of his hundreds of mugs in the winter

thinks a lot about taking classes at NYU in the history and psych dept to expand his knowledge

likes feeling the warmth of the sun in the morning and placed his bed perfectly in the room in order to be woken up that way every morning

his closet is organized in a way that is so orderly and simultaneously a nightmare to navigate bc matt uses his touch to find clothes so as long as he can feel it, it's fine where its at

has dropped and broken his phone hundreds of times and only knows its broken when he picks it up and he can feel the screen protector shattered

would call his partner 'counsellor' as a bit and then cannot stop doing it

hates going to stores where there's too much scent happening like bath and body works or lush

always dreamed of having an old man recliner in his future apartment, it's a financial priority and he would hold off retiring just to get his nice soft cozy chair

has timers set for specific times in the day because otherwise he will absolutely lose track of time and be unable to stay on schedule

has broken his red glasses often bc he puts them in his back pocket and sits, listening to them crunch under him

likes spin-y bar stools and will spin all night long at the bar

anime fan, like adventure anime where the protagonist and his friends have to go save the world or something

specifically loves hunter x hunter

enjoys doing lego sets but they never turn out quite right

has a lego collesium display in the office that foggy helped him finish and then glue together

hates sour candy

hates crocs, would rather lick a NYC sidewalk

has never been in a toys'r'us, but has nostaligia for the store

will feed the pigeons even though he understands the consequences

terrfied of geese

#matt murdock fanfic #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock smut #matt murdock blurb

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anianurst · 10 months

Text

A Dream World With You

Summary: Yuji's dreams continue, and this most recent dream starts to feel like the end

A/n: ahhhhh! thanks for loving pt 1 :) here's a little continuation. maybe I'll write another part if someone requests!

Warning(s): angst

The next couple of nights, the strange dreams continue. As soon as Yuji falls asleep, he's greeted by your sweet voice and soft touch. Your bright smiles and loving eyes are always directed at him, and he feels his whole body ignite. Your melodic giggles repeat in his head, and soon, he finds himself excited to fall asleep and be swept away into his dream world with you.

As the sun sets and the moon rises, Yuji eagerly strips himself of his heavy uniform and rushes to bed. As his eyes start to feel heavy and the world begins to fade into black, Yuji's heart begins to speed up as he anticipates what adventure he'll go on with you. Maybe the two of you will try cooking again (it failed miserably the last time, and he reassured you that someone called "Uraume" would clean it up). Or, he can watch you dance around the newly planted red camellias again, your offkey singing and laughter filling him with an emotion he didn't know existed (your light kimono might slip off again, and you'll be embarrassed and try to cover yourself again).

Yuji's eyes slowly open, and he knows he's in his dream world when he sees the old architectural style of your house. His eyes immediately dart around the room as he looks for you, and annoyance flairs. Where are you? Why weren't you lying beside him? He knows that you know that he enjoys keeping you as physically close as possible.

He gets an answer when the door to your bedroom slides open, and you come rushing in. Your hair (although always long and free) looks wilder than usual, and your bright face is replaced with worry and fear. Your fingers clutch at your thing drape as you breathe heavily.

"They're coming! My Love, the sorcerers are coming!" you yell, and your voice nearly cracks as tears begin to rise in your eyes. 'Sorcerers?' Yuji repeats. Your breathing starts to pick up, and Yuji quickly rises and wraps his arms around you. Your light sobs are muffled by his chest, and he lays a kiss on the top of your head.

"There's no need to fear, Darling. You go with Uraume, and I'll care for those insects." Your teary eyes look up at him, and he swears his heart twists with anger. Curse those sorcerers for making you cry. He'll tear every single one of them apart.

The next couple of moments are rushed as you put some more clothing on, wish Yuji farewell, and make him promise to stay safe. Uraume bows down to him and promises to ensure your safety and well-being over everything else. Watching your figure follow after Uraume's, Yuji's stomach twists with a twinge of sorrow. He can't remember the last time you had been apart. Your departure from your shared home feels too real as if he won't ever see you again. No, Yuji really doesn't like the sound of that. He'd ensure to slaughter all the pesky sorcerers coming quickly so he could return to you. He wants forever and more with you.

But none of that happens because Yuji is awakened by the loud slam of Nobara's pounding fists. His groggy eyes slowly open, and he groans as he wipes the sleep away. 'I'll see her later tonight,' he thinks. He won't keep you waiting. Afterall, he still doesn't even know your name.

taglist: @aish777 @chuuberrysworld @reigenation @shegetsburned

#jjk fanfic #jjk x reader #sukuna ryomen x reader #sukuna ryomen #sukuna fluff/angst #yuji itadori #yuji x reader #yuji itadori x reader #x reader #sukuna x reader

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denaliwrites · 10 months

Text

Don't Look Away

Tenth Doctor x GN!Reader

Part 1: Don't Blink Part 2: Don't Turn Your Back Part 4: Dreams See Us Through

Summary: You're finally rid of those godforsaken angels.

Requests: Open!

Tag List: @nyxiethesimp, @awesome-badass-cafeteria-sauce

Warnings: Weeping Angels.

You were so tired.

Between the nightmares and the constant vigilance, there was just... never a moment of rest for you.

Sure, the Doctor whisked you away again, back out into the far reaches of time and the universe, but no matter where you went, you always wondered if the angel was lurking nearby. And when you went back home, you knew that it was.

Out of sight, in this case, did not mean out of mind.

And the Doctor -- oh, the Doctor. He missed the old you. You could see it in his eyes. Every time he looked at you, even if he was smiling, you could see the broken hearts behind those beautiful brown eyes.

You had half a mind to leave him, to spare him the pain of watching you slowly wither away to nothing. And it was happening -- you could feel it, the way your body was getting slower, like it was in the process of shutting down.

Your mind, too, was starting to go. Things that normally would've taken moments to understand took you minutes. The Doctor often found you wandering the TARDIS with little recollection of where you were or how you got there. Your adventures became less frequent, and on the occasions he did take you on one, he was forced to keep a close eye on you so that you didn't trail off and get lost.

And then the adventures stopped.

The Doctor still picked up distress calls and the like -- but he couldn't help people and keep an eye on you at the same time, so you were left in the TARDIS while he went and did his thing.

You didn't mind, though. The rare times you were completely and totally alone gave you the opportunity to cry your heart out.

--- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- ---

The Doctor... wasn't a fan of problems he couldn't solve.

Did he accept that there were problems he couldn't solve? Of course -- the universe was vast and mysterious, even to him. Planets that by all accounts shouldn't exist existed. He'd met species that by all accounts shouldn't have been able to evolve, but somehow had.

(He still shuddered at the memory of the creature on Midnight.)

But acceptance was not the same as liking. And he did not like problems he couldn't solve.

In fact, he rather hated them.

You were a problem he couldn't solve. Or, at least, adjacently. More accurately, the Weeping Angel that had psychically latched itself onto you was a problem he couldn't solve -- but it was a problem for you, and he couldn't solve that either.

It killed him.

It killed him, it killed him, it killed him.

He just wanted to see you smile again. Hear your laugh. Feel you radiate joy and wonder and curiosity.

One thing the Doctor also hated?

Running out of time.

How did a Time Lord in possession of a time machine ever run out of time? How could he have let himself run out of time?

You were on the verge of needing actual medical attention -- intervention, really. He could see you deteriorating, noted how the process was getting faster and faster every day.

He was going to take you to New Earth, to those cat nun nurses. If anyone could help you, it was them -- loathe as he was to admit it.

But he thought, one more adventure. One more little trip, before he took you to be healed, and one trip to a doctor that could heal you better than he could before he took you home for the last time.

One more trip, one more doctor's office, before he gave himself to the Weeping Angel.

It was the only solution.

Well, the only solution he could see, at least.

So, he landed the TARDIS someplace low stakes. Calm, peaceful. Normal, far as the universe went. A little market planet by the name of --

"Vipitera!" the Doctor exclaimed as he swept out of the TARDIS with a big grin on his face. You shuffled close behind, a hand clutching at his coat to keep from losing him.

"Vipitera," he repeated as he swung around to face you suddenly, his bright and excited eyes meeting yours -- dull and exhausted. His grin didn't waver.

"Vipitera," he said again, slower, really drawing out the syllables. "Vipitera, Vipitera, Vipiteraaaaa." Each time he repeated the name, it sounded goofier and goofier.

Finally, miraculously, he managed to coax out a smile from you. His grin broadened. "There you are," he said with such amazement and adoration. He pulled you towards him and planted a loving kiss to your forehead. "There you are."

He tucked you tightly against his side and led you away from the TARDIS. He'd landed in some kind of supply closet, so it took some walking and weaving through halls, but eventually the two of you stepped out into the market proper.

He watched as your eyes sparked to life and bounced from stall to stall. He could almost feel the excitement flooding your brain, igniting parts of you that had been dulled and left to flicker out for far too long.

He supposed that was his fault.

"Welcome to the market planet Vipitera," he said with a grin and a broad motion to their surroundings. It effectively chased the thoughts away, as he got to see you smile again.

"Let me just -- hold on --" He pulled away from you to dig in his pockets, pulling something out a minute later. It looked like some kind of computer chip. "There's loads of credits on that thing," he said as he passed it to you with one hand and scratched the back of his head with the other. "Off you pop. Go wild."

--- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- ---

You didn't like the idea of going off on your own, but you figured -- a planet as public as this, with constant activity and very few places a Weeping Angel could hide -- either someone would've noticed a moving statue disappearing people, or there'd be too many eyes and not a lot of moving, generally.

And the Doctor thought it was safe, and he usually wasn't wrong.

The only problem now was that you had no idea where to start. Holding your credit... chip? close, you carefully started making your way through the nearest stalls, browsing what they had to offer.

Some had food that smelled incredible but looked maybe unfit for human consumption. Some had little knick-knacks and trinkets. A handful had jewelry. One had books.

You stopped to browse the book stall and ended up buying the biography of the first human president of Vipitera.

Why? Well, why not?

You also bought an Agatha Christie novel with a special edition, Vipitera exclusive cover, because you thought the Doctor would get a kick out of it.

And then you were off, looking around and buying things until your arms were full -- and, in your defense, the Doctor had told you to go crazy.

It eventually got to the point where you had to make a trip to the TARDIS to drop your haul off in your room.

As you headed back to the market, you thought you felt someone watching you -- you thought the angel had somehow found you, but the feeling passed just as quickly as it had come. Knowing the angel wouldn't have let you off so easy, you figured it was something else and went back out among the stalls.

The Doctor found you eventually, after you'd bought another armful of things, and led you to a human food stall after dropping all your new things off at the TARDIS (again).

Your eyes lit up and your mouth watered at all the options.

"Pick for me?" you asked the Doctor, looking at him with big, round eyes. "I don't even know where to start."

"Well," he started, motioning at something that looked somewhat like spaghetti, except the noodles (were they noodles, even?) were teal, and the sauce was a deep, foresty green. "Can never go wrong with Yuphorian nishles and pine sauce."

"... Nishles?"

"Fish noodles. Yuphorian fish meat is that color because of the algae they eat."

You blinked down at the curiously colored meal. "It's... good, though...?" you asked, finding it hard to get over the fact it looked like candy.

"Oh, yes. It's delicious."

"I'll try it then."

While he ordered you the nishles and a couple other things, you went to find a place to sit and decided on a nice shaded table in one of the far corners of the dining area.

A cool breeze blew past as you settled into one of the chairs. Barely a moment later, something was draped over your shoulders and you looked back to see the Doctor laying his coat over you.

"What about the food?" you asked, drawing the coat tighter around yourself.

"They're gonna bring it," he replied as he sat next to you.

"Thank you."

"I couldn't leave you shivering--"

"No, not for that -- I mean, yes, thank you for lending me your coat. But... no. Thank you for today."

The look he gave you was so sad. It broke your heart and confused you in equal measure.

"What's wrong, Doctor?"

The smile he shot your way was forced, and the glimmer in his eyes wasn't from joy but from unshed tears. "Oh, nothing," he replied. "Nothing at all."

He obviously wasn't convincing, but you knew pressing the matter wouldn't get you anywhere. Instead, you decided to rest your head while the two of you waited for your food.

--- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- ---

The Doctor had forgotten what you looked like when you were sleeping -- he'd forgotten what peace looked like on your face.

You were only taking a light nap while you waited for alien pasta made out of fish oil, but to him, you were the pinnacle of beauty in that moment. Of everything he'd seen in all his nine hundred odd years traveling through time and space, this moment with you was the most remarkable. The most stunning. The most breathtaking.

How he hated that he had to wake you up.

He waited, at least, putting it off until the waitress was gone and then for a little bit longer before he shook you awake.

You grunted, every cell in your body desperate to stay under to the point of protest, but he kept at it until you stirred.

"Time to eat," he told you as your eyes fluttered open. "Come and get it while it's hot."

He saw the heaviness of sleep in your eyes as you looked up at him and oh, how he adored it. How he'd missed it.

"Mmm," you replied, making him chuckle.

"I promise I'll let you rest when you're done eating," he said, pushing the plate of nishles towards you. "C'mon, before it gets cold!"

He could see how begrudging you were to get up, but you did so anyway, and grumpily stabbed at your pasta for effect.

"Oh, come now, what did the poor nishles do to deserve this?" he asked teasingly.

He saw a flicker of a smile on your lips.

Emboldened, he continued. "All that work being processed and cooked to be eaten, just for you to stab it."

That little secret smile grew, just a bit.

"Those poor nishles."

He watched as you broke at the word nishles, dissolving into a fit of uncontrollable giggles. They were probably spurred on by delirium, but it had been so long since he'd heard you laugh that he didn't care.

"Oi, why are you laughing?" he whined playfully. "Those fish didn't give their lives just for you to laugh at them!"

Your giggles grew into a full belly laugh, and the Doctor thought that if he were to die in that moment, he'd die happy, because he would've gotten to hear you laugh -- really laugh -- one last time.

Your fit of laughter eventually died down, helped along by you taking a few deep breaths and putting in a concentrated effort to stop.

"So..." you said, biting back another bout of giggles. "Ni--nishles..."

"Nishles," the Doctor agreed, watching you.

He continued to watch as you took the first bite, watched as your face shifted across a vast array of expressions, and watched as it eventually settled on bewilderment.

"What... is that...?" you asked, blinking rapidly at the dish in front of you.

"That'd be the pine sauce, made from the needles of the Yuphorian fir."

"It... but it doesn't taste like pine," you whimpered in confusion, eyeing it.

"Well of course," the Doctor said with a grin. "It's not Earth pine sauce, it's Yuphorian pine sauce. Earth pine sauce would be disgusting -- well, I suppose juniper sauce might not be. Or gin sauce... oh, there's an idea..."

He didn't realize you were staring past him until he paused and took in your suddenly stricken expression.

"What is it?" he asked softly, watching you carefully.

"I-I thought I... I thought I saw..."

Oh, no.

He turned to look behind him, but whatever you'd seen was gone.

If you'd even seen anything.

Not that he didn't believe your experience, but he was in a difficult position; you were deliriously tired and paranoid (rightfully, of course). Both things could lead to hallucinations.

He knew this, and yet he knew without a doubt that he had to take you seriously, for your sake.

"C'mon," he said quietly, moving to a stand. "We can finish lunch in the TARDIS." You nodded your assent and grabbed the food, then stood and tucked yourself into his side.

He led you through the market, through the building you'd materialized in, and to the TARDIS.

He slotted the key into the door, turned to unlock it, then turned back to look at you --

--- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- ---

You didn't need to see the Doctor's stricken expression to know the Weeping Angel was behind you. You could feel its presence like a breath against your neck.

It felt like every hair on your body was standing to attention. It felt like your whole body stopped. You couldn't hear your heartbeat, but you could swear you heard the Doctor's hearts hammering away.

With a shuddering breath, you whimpered his name. You saw his eyes twitch -- he wanted so badly to look at you, but couldn't take his eyes off the angel.

"Get into the TARDIS," he commanded, "don't worry about me, I've got an eye --"

"Doctor," you interrupted, voice small but surprisingly steady.

You could see tears gathering in his eyes. He was desperate to look at you.

"I can't move."

Understanding dawned on his face, and you watched as his hearts broke right in front of you.

"I'm sorry, Doctor."

"You?" he asked in a tearful growl. "What have you done to be sorry for?"

"I'm sorry we won't have more time together."

He let out a hollow laugh. "No. I'm sorry. I couldn't save Rose, couldn't save Astrid, couldn't save Donna. And I can't save you."

"It's okay."

"No, it's not. It's not okay! Why you? Why you?"

"Doctor."

You could see him struggling to keep his eyes open, now. He struggled, and soon he'd fail.

"Doctor, let me go."

"I can't lose you, too."

"We don't have a choice."

He struggled. His eyes were twitching more now, desperate for relief, and he still so desperately wanted to be looking at you rather than the angel.

And then finally, the inevitable.

He blinked.

And your world went black.

#tenth doctor x reader #tenth doctor x you #doctor who x reader #the doctor x reader #the doctor x you #reader insert #doctor who fic #doctor who fanfiction #doctor who #the doctor #david tennant #canon typical peril #weeping angels

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rea-grimm · 8 months

Text

Sleep protector Luffy

"You look awful, what happened to you?" a friend asked you when you met at a coffee shop. It's been almost a year since you last saw each other. She hadn't changed at all, while you were almost unrecognizable.

You had giant circles under your eyes and your whole body looked like a giant painting that someone had painted using red, blue, yellow and purple. You wore so many bruises that you lost count.

You had the impression that you were cursed. Bad luck was sticking to your heels, and you also suffered from nightmares that kept you awake.

You thought slipping on a banana peel was just a TV joke. That is until you did it yourself. You had no idea how many times you tripped or were almost struck by lightning, or forgot your umbrella in the biggest downpour.

It was the little things that you wouldn't mind if they weren't happening to you 24/7. What irritated you the most was when people told you not to worry about it, that it would get better if you slept. As if it were possible. Every time you fell asleep, you found yourself in an even worse nightmare than before.

Initially, you didn't want to discuss this with your friend, because it was quite possible that you wouldn't see her again for a year or so. You wanted to enjoy this day with her.

But you couldn't hide anything from her either, and you confided everything to her under her pressure. Also about the fact that you slowly began to fall into depression.

After this, your friend gave you a small gift bag. She wanted to give it to you anyway. She also had a similar one at home, and as soon as she bought it, all the bad dreams disappeared. Plus, when she saw this one, she remembered you and just had to get it for you.

After coffee, you spent almost the rest of the day together. When you said goodbye, you returned home, where you could finally calmly look at the bag you had received.

You opened it and inside was a teddy bear. He had black fur, a red vest, blue shorts and a straw hat on his head. He was cute and soft to the touch.

You didn't believe much in talismans and charms, but you took a stuffed animal to bed with you. After a long time, you fell asleep without any problems almost immediately.

It was an even bigger but pleasant shock in the morning when you woke up full of energy and without any nightmares. You couldn't even remember the last time you slept this well.

You didn't believe it, but it had to be true. Ever since you got the teddy bear, the nightmares have slowly faded away. You were always saved from them by a young man wearing the same outfit as the teddy bear.

He easily defeated all your nightmares and with a carefree smile, he then took your hand and led you into the unknown for an adventure. Be it sea battles, an island of giants or an island full of meat. He always managed to come up with some stupid thing by pure chance that ended up being good and you still laughed.

Thanks to that, you looked forward more and more to sleep and what new things you will do. You were especially looking forward to seeing him because he exuded a cheerful energy that was very contagious. You had the impression that even if he was only in a dream, he could recharge your batteries like no one else.

Since then, your mood has improved and your bad luck has disappeared. You would never believe that a good night's sleep could solve all your problems.

Even your bad luck suddenly disappeared. Instead, you found money here and there, you won, for example, some little thing for free, people were nicer to you, everything started to go well for you, and things turned out better than you expected. You never expected to experience such a turn for the better.

You were in the mood for some quick food, maybe a burger or something, and you headed into town. You went to the chosen establishment and ordered food. While you were waiting, you noticed a young man at the counter who reminded you of a teddy bear.

The young man was getting upset because he wanted to order a lot of food, but apparently, he didn't have enough money to pay. Despite all this, he did not give up.

You felt quite sorry for him, so you decided to buy him food. You went over to him and paid for him. It's already happened to you several times that they blocked your card out of nowhere, so you couldn't pay, so you wanted to make him happy.

"You're the best! Thank you very much!" the young man in the straw hat was beaming with enthusiasm and before you knew it, he was hugging you. This moment felt very familiar to you, but you couldn't remember from where. You just smiled and waved it off that it was a small thing.

You originally thought you'd grab your food and head home, but you were so captivated by his cheerfulness that you decided to stay. You ate your meal together. You had already eaten your portion while he was still stuffing himself.

After the meal, he took you to see his friends. You were glad about that because you didn't have many friends or they lived far away. That's why you sometimes felt alone. He saved you from that loneliness and after eating, you went to his group.

You originally wanted to go home after eating, but something just pulled you towards him. All his friends accepted you and you were with them until the evening. You probably never laughed so well and you even felt a little sorry when you said goodbye to them.

When you finally got home, you were tired, but at the same time filled with positive energy that you didn't want to go to bed yet. You made yourself a warm drink and sat down on the couch with plans to watch a nice movie.

You prepared everything when you had the impression that something was missing. You got up and went to the bedroom where you wanted to take the teddy bear with you. Maybe it was childish, but you wanted him with you.

You went into the bedroom but you didn't see him anywhere. You looked under the duvet, the pillow and even under the bed, but he was nowhere to be found. You searched the rest of the bedroom as well, wondering where you could leave him. Instead of a movie, you ended up spending the evening looking for a teddy bear.

You were slowly starting to panic. If you couldn't find him, did that mean bad luck and nightmares would return? Will you go back to the bottom again? Will you be afraid to get out of bed in the morning again? You fell to your knees in a panic and held your head.

How could something like this even happen to you? Was it just a dream and you will wake up in the morning to a harsh reality? Was this just another nightmare? Just a figment of your troubled mind?

Strange footsteps interrupted you from your train of thought. It couldn't be your friend, she was long gone. Would they be thieves? You really couldn't care less. It would just suit your miserable situation.

"Why are you on the floor?" a familiar voice asked you, but it lacked the classic cheerfulness. Instead of it, he was full of worries. You looked at him with tear-filled eyes. You didn't even know you started crying.

“Whoa, why are you crying? Did someone hurt you?” he asked in surprise, looking like he was ready to beat up anyone who tried to harm you in any way.

“No,” you replied in a husky voice as you wiped away your tears and shook your head. At first, you were hesitant to confide in him, but it was your dream after all. That's why you told him about the teddy bear and your fears.

"I was already afraid that someone hurt you," he breathed and smiled. "You don't have to be afraid of anything. I'm Luffy, your sleep protector,” he replied as if it was obvious.

“Huh?” You didn't understand what he meant. “But that teddy bear…” you trailed off.

"That was me," he jumped into your speech proudly. "So I protected you in your dreams, but I wanted to protect you here too," he replied with satisfaction.

You watched him and tried to make sense of it when his hands stretched out and he pulled you to him like nothing. He hugged you and rubbed his cheek on your head.

"I like you a lot more when you're happy. Tears don't suit you,” he said while cuddling you.

Everything was so real and pleasant that you believed it. And if this was a dream, you never wanted to wake up. You looked at him and kissed him. You haven't felt this safe and loved in a long time.

Luffy Masterlist

Sleep Protector Masterlist

#one piece #one piece x reader #luffy x reader #monkey d luffy #sleep protector #sleep protector luffy #teddy bear #luffy #Monster Piece

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m00nsbaby · 1 year

Text

Already over.

Main Steven Grant x F! reader. ( + Marc Spector x F! Reader)

Part 2. Sleepwalking.

Warnings & tags. ANGTS!! Cheating kinda but not really?, hurt, and all of thaaaat.

Word count. 3.4k

Summary.

We been talking for hours About how we shouldn't talk for hours on end. Kissing after a conversation About how we'd probably be better off as friends. Same time here next weekend Say, "We won't do this again" Make me fall where I stand Only like you can.

It had been a while since Steven and you had accepted your positions in Marc's life. Both of you were external parts of something larger, like small protrusions on a road that led nowhere.

You decided to understand it when you realized the burden Marc had to carry. Khonshu had taken hold of his psyche and shattered it as he pleased, although he was aware of his dissociative identity disorder, he had started to lose control a long time ago and this resulted in Steven finding out in the worst possible way. It was as if life itself had decided to break him in every possible way.

Hadn't he suffered enough already? Steven and you weren't going to take away the last thing he had.

The love of his life. Layla El-Faouly.

You envied her in different ways. Living a life of adventures with the man of your dreams sounded like something out of a book. She was a strong woman and the first in Marc's life, and therefore also in Steven's, but if there was something that broke your heart in half, it was knowing that she was happy with him.

It would be a lie to say that you weren't happy with Steven. He gave you all of himself and loved you in a way he never tried to hide. But for years now, you had been the one picking up the pieces of two broken people and putting them back together. And then, there was Layla, who didn't even know about the existence of her husband's alter ego, enjoying the best part.

The carefree part that stood above all the atrocities of daily life, simply having a nice date or the official title of his wife, with a ring and legal documents.

"Do you miss working at the museum?" Steven's fingers traced your waistline, occasionally pausing to press on the moles peeking beneath the fabric of your short shirt.

"You have no idea how much." You could never tell him how much you appreciated that he didn't lie to you. You knew he comforted Marc by telling him that life was perfect just the way it was.

You were face to face. You admired Steven's face in front of you.

Anyone would think that once the issue of his fake sleep disorder was cleared up, he would look less tired. Although there were still hundreds of nocturnal missions, and Khonshu destroyed the mercenary's body until an exhaustion beyond description, now Steven could sleep a few more hours, the ones where he used to force himself to read until the letters danced before him.

Nothing had changed at all. In fact, you could swear that the dark circles under his eyes were becoming more noticeable.

"I love you, Steven." You said suddenly, resting a hand on his cheek. His skin had always been so soft and delightfully warm.

You brought a smile to his face, the one that momentarily makes you forget that both of you feel that time is running out.

The one that makes you forget the slight resentment you have towards Marc.

"I love you…" He whispered before leaning forward, just enough to brush his lips against yours, a gentle touch as his hand rested on your waist, and his thumb traced circles on your bare skin.

He wasn't lying; Steven never lied.

You spent the rest of the afternoon kissing and chatting about what had happened during the week you couldn't see each other. You asked about Layla as you always did, he shrugged, and you wondered if he felt the same resentment towards her that you felt towards Marc.

"The idea of vegan hot wings is stupid," you laughed as you bit into the vegetable in your hand, the one that was trying to deceive you and pass for something else.

"The sauce tastes good!" Steven laughed with you, playfully pushing you with his shoulder. To hell with sitting face to face in restaurants; if your bodies weren't close enough, neither of you were comfortable.

"It's a fraud."

"It's delicious." Seeing you take another bite was enough to feel that he was right without you explicitly saying it.

"Do you want to come to my apartment later?" You sucked your thumb to clean the sauce from it. "Yesterday, I accidentally stumbled upon a garage sale and bought the dumbest movie I've ever seen, I got it for us. It's called Rubber, and it's about a homicidal car tire."

Under any other circumstances, Steven would have laughed with you, but he gave you that look that you already knew too well.

"I'm sorry, love." Suddenly, the fake wings didn't look so appetizing. "Marc is feeling better."

Ah. That.

That was the signal that he would be spending the night with Layla.

"That's fine." You nodded immediately, and you also felt disgusted with the food in your hand.

How much longer could you go on like this?

After a few seconds of silence, you cleared your throat. You had some time to come up with a change of conversation.

"What happened to your hand?" Your index finger touched Steven's injured knuckles.

"Marc didn't keep the suit on long enough; the larger wounds healed, but the rest didn't." He never lied, although this might be the exception. A minor injury to prevent a bigger one; he wouldn't ruin his life over a trivial matter.

You nodded slowly, planted a kiss on his shoulder, and continued with your attempt at a date, which was going perfectly until you remembered where you were standing.

The truth was that the night before, Steven had had a fight with Marc, one of those that hadn't happened since they threatened not to switch bodies back to each other.

"Are you two together, Steven?" He was about to explode, about to go crazy. This was the last thing he needed right now, adding more lies and involving more people. "I already told you, no!" Ever since you considered the possibility that Marc might find out, you had decided that if it was a panic situation, you would opt for the most efficient plan: Deny, deny, deny, deny. "Don't lie to me, not to me!" He never yelled; he was the calculating, quiet, and careful type, but even he had a breaking point, and if Steven was going to shout, then he would too. "Do you think I'm stupid, Steven?" It's funny because he hadn't had any doubts until a few weeks ago, so maybe he was a bit stupid, but he wouldn't say it out loud. "No, no, but…" "But?" "We're not together, Marc; she's my best friend." The second part was at least not a lie. He exhaled heavily and mentally thanked for being in front because dealing with anger, panic, and fear without having control over your body was a nightmare he had experienced before. Why did he ever buy so many mirrors? Marc's accusing gaze followed him around the apartment. "And you like her," Steven completed, another thing that wasn't a lie. "If I lose Layla because of you two, I swear I'll…" Adrenaline rushed through him; he lost control of his hand, which ended up against one of the mirrors, breaking it into a thousand pieces. "Marc!" The other didn't say anything, he watched from the reflection of some glass pieces as Steven's hand now bled, and tears filled his eyes. His body was used to large doses of pain, but emotionally, he wasn't used to seeing himself bleed or handling loud noises well. "We. Are. Not. Together." It was the last thing he said as he stretched his fingers and watched the blood flow between them. Marc was no longer in the reflection. He didn't want to object.

"Will I see you the day after tomorrow?" You could still see him tomorrow, but the idea of him coming to your place smelling of Layla's citrusy perfume always disgusted you. It was as if an extra day would be enough to erase any traces of her from his body.

"The day after tomorrow, without fail." Steven knew; he didn't question you. He placed a kiss on your forehead.

"I love you, Steven."

"I love you, sweetheart."

Receiving calls or visits at midnight was always terrifying, especially when you knew your partner was constantly at risk, and this time was no exception.

The strong knocks on the door woke you up, and knowing it could be no one else but him, you opened the door without hesitation. Clad only in Steven's shirt that barely covered your thighs, with messy hair and half-closed eyes because the hallway light bothered you in the darkness.

Marc's tearful eyes met yours, along with the strong aroma of whiskey that Steven had told you about before, the one that stung his nose.

"Are you okay?" It was the first thing you said as he analyzed you from head to toe. He hated you, hated that you looked so good in the middle of the night, and hated that he felt a sense of ownership just from seeing you in a shirt that was originally his.

He didn't answer, he walked straight into your apartment, and you could only step aside to let him pass.

The way he walked past the sofas to sit on the floor was frightening; you had spent time with Marc during bad moments, but you had never seen him like this. You didn't say anything, didn't press, you just walked behind him and sat down beside him on the cold floor.

Your mere presence was enough for his eyes to fill with tears again.

"I didn't know where to go," he whispered, breaking your heart into a thousand pieces with just a few words.

"Oh, Marc." You knelt beside him to have better access to his body, and within seconds, you had your arms wrapped around him, holding him close. "I'm here, calm down."

You didn't get more words from him for a while, just sobs and those annoying chest contractions you get when you try to breathe through crying. You could even feel the fabric of your shirt damp at the shoulder level from his tears.

"I'm scared." His voice was broken, trembling.

"I'm here." You repeated as you held him tighter.

He didn't have the strength to tell you. He was afraid of you. Afraid of the dreams where he saw himself with you, afraid of the way his heart raced the few times you crossed paths, afraid of losing Layla because of his feelings, and afraid of change.

He was terrified of the mere idea of his life changing completely again.

You played with his curls and stayed on your knees until they hurt, with him in your arms whimpering like a little kid.

"Let's go to bed, Marc." He didn't resist, and you led him by the hand.

Nor did he object when you helped him get rid of his clothes just so he could sleep a little better. He almost felt guilty about how comfortable he seemed to be in your bed.

You hugged him from behind, your two hands resting on his chest where you could feel the beating of his heart and the rise and fall of his breath. Your cheek enjoyed the warmth of his back.

When you woke up, there were no traces of Marc anymore.

"Meanwhile, Osiris' wife, Isis, searched tirelessly for his body and then…" The way you were looking at the ground while walking had caught Steven's attention for quite a while, but he didn't confirm his suspicions until he noticed you weren't participating in his narration as you always used to do. "Lovey?"

"Huh?"

"You seem distracted today."

"I'm sorry, I, it's just…" You cleared your throat while forcing a small smile on your face.

"Do you like it here?" He interrupted to finally point out an area in the park that seemed perfect for your plan. You immediately nodded with that fake smile, and both of you sat down carefully on the grass. You placed the book you had been carrying in one hand aside.

Steven handed you your ice cream and kept his own in the other hand.

"Can we talk?"

"Nothing good ever comes out of that, I've seen it in movies." Steven tried to joke, but hearing those words come out of your mouth made him sick to his stomach. Slowly, he rested his head on your lap.

Your hand, as if drawn by a magnet, went straight to his tousled curls. He closed his eyes and smiled; you had always compared that gesture to a puppy seeking more affection.

"We can't keep doing this to Marc, love." Your voice broke as you gave him those caresses he loved so much. "Nor to Layla, it's not fair to them."

Steven was looking at you again, with a terrified expression and a slight pout on his lips.

"And is it fair to us?" he snapped. Needless to say, both of you had long stopped paying attention to your sad ice creams; they were already melting into the grass.

"If Layla finds out, we'll ruin Marc's life." You tried to be the rational one between both of you, but with Steven's puppy eyes fixed on you, it was almost impossible to think clearly.

"And if we end… this, mine will be destroyed." Well, he had a point. "Please." His two hands went to your cheeks and pressed them gently, his forehead now resting against yours. "We can't. You can't." His lips claimed yours within seconds, and you could only respond as if life were slipping away.

Whom were you fooling? You were selfish enough to give in. After all, every night you created scenarios where Layla found out and left Marc, knowing that it would destroy him, but in your scenarios, you were there to comfort him, to prevent him from falling apart.

"I love you, Steven." You didn't get a response, but you didn't need to hear it; feeling the strength with which he held you was more than enough.

You were all he had, and he was all you had.

Life was better when you both pretended to have a life that wasn't yours. When you fantasized and made plans for a future you would both do anything to have.

"What do you think of that one?" You both looked like kids with your foreheads pressed against the glass that separated you from the kittens.

"They say the orange ones are crazy, lovey." The fact that Steven was just as interested as you in this fed your good mood entirely. "How about that one?"

"I like his or her fur." You pressed your index finger against the glass to try to get the attention of the kitty that was completely distracted playing with another.

"Love, love, love." He nudged you with his shoulder, making you laugh, so you looked at the opposite side, another part of the store.

You gasped.

"THAT ONE?" You had to cover your mouth when the tone of your voice caught the attention of other people in the place.

There was only one cat in the area reserved for senior cats. You knew it was harder for them to get adopted compared to the kittens, it was as if he was destined to be there.

"It's just a baby." You pouted slightly as you pulled Steven's hand, both walking straight towards the spot where the little cat was staring at you.

He was white, although half of his body was covered in black spots, reminiscent of a cow's fur. When you got closer, you noticed that the tip of one of his ears was missing.

Love at first sight.

"Hiya, mate." The guy next to you was as enchanted as you with the animal. "Uhm, what do you say?" He tilted his head towards the glass. The meow completed his performance. "Look how curious, he says he's looking for new parents."

You laughed, genuine happiness coursing through you. You didn't give Steven time to react before jumping into his arms; he lifted you a few inches off the ground in the middle of the hug.

You didn't care about drawing attention. In fact, having witnesses to your love made it feel more real, reminding you that it wasn't just a product of your imagination.

After he kissed your lips, you could feel the ground under your feet again. You couldn't stop smiling.

"Come on, let's fill out the form." Steven's heart was about to burst with love at any moment.

The instructions were clear: fill out the corresponding paperwork, a few days of socialization with the cat to make sure he felt comfortable with you, and by the following week, he would be yours.

"We'll come to see you, okay? And then we'll go home."

"See ya, buddy." Steven said his goodbye too. "Next week, you'll have the best home, the comfiest bed, and the best parents, I promise."

"What's wrong, Marc?" There was something scary about the idea of being alone with him without him being intoxicated or injured. You were taking off your scarf to leave it on a sofa while he watched you from his table, leaning against it with his arms crossed over his chest.

It was impossible to read his expression because Marc always seemed tense.

"She knows."

Your heart sank in seconds, and you looked at him in surprise.

"Ah?"

"She knows," he repeated. You swallowed hard, and for a moment, you thought this was one of those silly dreams that sometimes distorted your reality.

"Knows what?"

"Please, don't treat me like I'm stupid." His tone of voice was enough to make you tremble. You immediately looked at the bathroom mirror.

Steven had told you that while one had control of the body, the other could be reflected in different surfaces, but of course, that only worked between them. No matter how much you looked, hoping that Steven would appear to save you, it didn't happen.

You didn't even know if he was aware of what Marc was doing.

"I don't…" Your voice died down slowly, and you refused to get closer to him. "What does she know?"

"About you." He took a step closer, and you felt immobilized. "She thinks you're my lover, like any sane person, she knows nothing about Steven."

You swallowed the lump in your throat as tears filled your eyes.

"You have to tell her, Marc, explain to her she…" He interrupted you in seconds; the way he raised his voice made you flinch.

"'She will understand?' Is that what you want to say?" He was getting closer, and you felt like he was taking your breath away. Why were you suddenly so afraid? "Yes, I'll tell her every damn thing that's wrong with me so that you can be happy."

Ouch.

"I-I'm saying it for you, Marc." Tears were already streaming down your face, and you mentally cursed yourself for the mere idea of showing so much weakness. "She has to know, it's best for you." And it was, of course, but you were resorting to your last resort to not lose Steven too.

And maybe, not lose Marc either.

"You don't know what's best for me, you have no idea." His sarcasm cut deep as he took the last step to confront you.

"Please, please, don't do this." You pleaded through sobs; your hands ended up on his cheeks. "Please." You pulled him closer to you.

He seemed to relax under your touch, at least for a few seconds. Your heart stopped when one of his hands rested on your waist.

"Don't make this harder, you're killing me." He was also begging, even as his forehead pressed against yours.

"We can get through this, Marc." You sniffed. "I promise, we can…"

A kiss. A desperate and painful kiss silenced your words; it was the only one Marc and you would share.

"Go," he whispered against your lips, still planting small kisses on them. "Please, I beg you, go."

And that was the final nail to seal the coffin between you both.

His hand made you take a step back, a very gentle push.

"I'm choosing her." He knew you better than he'd like, knowing that you wouldn't stop insisting unless he caused you permanent harm. Besides, how could he convince himself he wasn't in love with you if he didn't do this?

You looked at him incredulously, not believing his act, but there was nothing else you could do.

This time, you begged that Steven was present to hear everything that had transpired between you both because you wouldn't have the strength to end it after this. In fact, you didn't even know if you'd have the strength to live without him.

You didn't say anything more, you didn't look back at him, and he didn't change his mind. You left his apartment, leaving your scarf on his sofa as a final reminder of your presence in his life.

sorry, i got tired of happy endings

Part 2. Sleepwalking.

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