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gay-dorito-dust · 2 months ago

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Can I request headcanons for Zayne, and Sylus react gn s/o who always makes it a habit to tell him that they love him whenever they can like when they wake up, before going to sleep, before they leave, and when they return?

Hearing you say such sweet and simple words like I love you at any and every given moment will never not warm his heart, ever.

Sylus could hear you speak the words softly against his chest, right where his heart is when you wake up, almost as though you were whispering secrets to it in such a loving and caring way that it only made it race within his chest and swell with warm emotions within moments of you saying such tender and powerful words.

‘I love you Sylus, stay safe and don’t do anything stupid.’ You’d tell him as you kissed his forehead, pulling away only to rest your own head against his to stare into his crimson eyes, crimson eyes that stared back at you heavily with love and utter adoration as he chuckles. ‘I wouldn’t dream of it my love, for whom shall warm you in bed when I depart?’ He’d ask jokingly.

‘Mephisto.’ You’d reply jokingly as the crow could be heard squawking confusingly from his corner of the room, head tilted to one side.

You brought or perhaps revived a warmth Sylus thought was long buried within his chest.

You brought it forth so easily that he couldn’t help but find himself wanting nothing more then to rush his business meetings just so he could hear you run towards him, burry your head into his chest as you embraced him while telling him how much you loved and missed him; almost as though the confession weighed heavily upon your tongue like it was something you had to admit to before you couldn’t anymore.

He loved how much softer and sweeter the moments before you both drift off to sleep, the last thing he hears is you saying you love him in a sleepy mumble, face buried deep into his chest as sleep encased you both whole. It was a moment he repeats when you’re far away on a mission, knowing damn well he wouldn’t be able to sleep without hearing your voice, not after having gotten use to it after your short stay in his home.

Sylus has become accustomed to you being in his home, with him and blessing it with your warmth and personality. So to have to endure a week without you was enough for Sylus to reach for the phone and call you just to hear you tell him you love him, to know that even if there was distance between the two of you that the love between you was still as strong as it was when your both together. Sylus had grown accustomed to you sharing your thoughts and inner most emotions with him, with you always kissing him on the lips or wherever you could reach and whispering;

‘I love you’ afterwards before going about your day as though you didn’t leave him wanting to keep you locked in his arms in your shared bed, to drink you and your early morning look as you both partake in sharing your warmth, lost in one another as everything else fell away for it didn’t matter as all that truly mattered was love of your life that you held in your arms.

I love you was a strong word but your version of I love you was to say that you loved him after every moment, and in the end he found himself whispering ‘I love you’ against your forehead as he kissed it softly, holding you closer to his chest protectively before you fell into peaceful slumber together with a content smile upon his face.

Stylus was complete for his other half was welhere they belonged; in his arms.

Zayne would feel as though he was back to how he felt when you first admitted your feelings for him each time you reminded him of your love for him.

His smile upon his lips was soft and gentle, his eyes were equally so as he felt light on his feet and his heart sang your name so dreamily even long after you leave his sight.

They were words that one shouldn’t say lightly but when you say ‘I love you Zayne, I’ll see you when you get back from work to watch that new movie together.’ Zayne truly believed he could hear the angels sing as he finds himself walking into work with the goal of going back home to you.

Something of which he had once thought was never going to happen even in a million lifetimes, but he had found himself blessed to even be sharing a bed with you in this lifetime.

‘I love you Zayne.’ You’d whisper softly against his lips after pecking them multiple times, wanting nothing more than to wake your beautiful doctor with some much needed affection, all the while watching the fluttering of his eyelashes as he opens those gorgeous eyes of his to look at you sweetly.

‘I love you too my dearest.’ He relies in his morning voice, rubbing his hand softly up and down your back as he brought you into kiss your temple.

Those three words only made Zayne feel as though the progression of your relationship thus far was more than worth the longing and the pinning he has to endure in silence. Even though you did tell him there were moments where you knew he felt something towards you that went beyond platonic and into something far more romantic and genuine.

‘I love you Zayne’ were words that lived within his head constantly, even if he didn’t show it sometimes he couldn’t help but find himself wanting you to say it more and more.

Was it selfish? Yes but Zayne couldn’t help it, he wanted to hear you say it for as long as he possible could, for he knew he could never get bored of hearing you say it as it was something he had been waiting for all this time.

It was like two long lost souls finally finding each other again after so, so long. It brought a weight off of his shoulders and Zayne was more than anticipating where your future would lead you, especially if admiring to your love for one another was going to become easy as breathing.

#love and deepspace #love and deepspace x reader #love and deepspace x you #love and deepspace imagines #love and deepspace imagine #lads imagines #lads imagine #lads x reader #lads x you #lads x y/n #sylus imagine #sylus x reader #sylus x you #sylus x y/n #zayne imagines #zayne imagine #zayne x reader #zayne x you #zayne x y/n

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shadesoflsk · 9 months ago

Text

THE OLD WAY

pairing: Leon Kennedy x fem reader

summary: Living at a farm and being married surely has it perks. However, Leon can't help but think something is missing.

warnings: smut, MDNI, oral (fem receiving) p in v, mating press (??), creampie, breeding kink, outdoor sex, age gap (unspecified), established relationship, fluff, Leon is so husband in this, mentions of pregnancy, domestic bliss.

word count: 4k

author's note: Hello! I had this fic in my drafts for sooo long. I was kind of ashamed to post this since it's not my usual type of content but !!! fuck it !! Ovulation goes brrr. I hope you all like it!I had an older Leon in mind but I used a re6 leon pic for funsies. (And please... don't judge the lack of creativity in my title... I didn't know what to write.)

MY MASTERLIST

City life was no longer fitting for a man like him. Job was not the same and he was afraid he might not get up from one of his falls one day. Joints no longer worked like they used to, a painful reminder of how his age was getting to him.

That's why he chose to retire, rather early for the average citizen. But he believes his position as a federal agent has aged him to the point where he could easily describe himself as an 80 years old man who needed help crouching down.

With that in mind, he wasted no time buying a home away from civilization. Money was no problem and owning a ranch now sounded like the best idea he could come up with. Days turned into weeks, weeks into months, and months into years. Time seemed to flow faster as he settled down in a peaceful lifestyle.

Solitude was very much welcomed. The sounds of blood dripping and ragged screams were replaced by the soft pitty patter of the rain and the usual rooster’s crow each morning, announcing a new day.

But, as much as he has grown to love and appreciate his simplistic routine, the monotonous daily work and the lack of companionship were hitting him hard. When night came and his thoughts clouded his rational side, he yearned for a change in his life. He was never the romantic type, never been. His previous job as an agent cut off any possibilities of having a partner and settling down like any normal person would. But years made him a sappy man, it seemed.

Life works in mysterious ways, though. He wouldn’t have thought that farm life would bring him a sweet thing like you. It all started with your car breaking down a few meters away from his farm. You wanted to thank him for his help, there was no way you would simply express your gratitude through words, not after his assistance.

So, your first visit consisted of a home-baked pie which he reluctantly accepted. Not because he didn’t want to but it had been a while since he was last gifted something. That first meeting soon turned into a couple until you were basically there every day.

“Stay with me,” shifted into a “Be my girlfriend” and therefore the “Marry me?” finally came.

You were the best thing that has ever happened in his life, a peaceful life away from any danger the city may bring and a beautiful wife by his side? God granted him the most perfect miracle ever.

He followed the milestones of your relationship to a T. Even though the lack of knowledge was sometimes obvious, he knew the basics of how to keep a girl—his girl— happy. It was in his nature to provide, and living with you meant no exception.

He always strived to do better, to be better. Your needs were always met and he took pride in knowing he was your husband. No one else but him.

However, he felt selfish when none of that actually fulfilled him. He was happy with you, don’t get him wrong. Nothing was like before when he thought he would die alone with no one who cared about him. But something in the back of his mind kept bothering him.

And ever since he realized something was missing, he couldn't help but try to find out what it was.

For days and weeks, he tried picturing the change both of you needed. More pets? You had enough with the dog you both have. Vacations? He had already taken you to the beach. More space in your home? The house at the farm was alright… Maybe a little too big for just the two of you.

Oh.

Oh…

The problem was the two of you. Or rather, being just the two of you on this big ranch.

He had come to realize that he could, in fact, dream bigger. A few years ago, he would have thought that being married was a faraway dream, unachievable and stupid. But now he’s a husband and maybe if he tries hard enough, he can get to be a family man.

However, nobody has taught him how to face these types of situations. Even when he asked you to be his wife, he needed months of preparation. How was he going to explain this desire to put a baby in you?

On one peaceful night, he was spooning you as always. It was his favorite activity after taking care of his chores at the farm (and even doing some of yours just so you could relax more). But even when there was nothing but a comforting silence, his thoughts wouldn’t stop flooding his mind.

He let one of his hands rest on your abdomen, caressing the skin there with circular motions. He tried closing his eyes to prevent more of those thoughts from coming to his mind yet it was useless. His imagination was running wild when he pictured you carrying a life in your belly, swollen and round, the perfect scenario.

He imagined taking care of you. Of course, his pretty wife won’t do anything if she’s next to him. There was no way he wouldn’t take that opportunity to show her how much of a man, a good man he was.

Pressing a kiss to your cheek as he rested behind you, he spoke before even thinking what he was supposed to say.

“You would be a good mom, you know?” It slipped out of his mouth, he should’ve used a more discreet way of speaking his mind. Now it was too late to draw back.

“What?” You chuckled as you turned your head to look at Leon. “I’d look great as a mom?”

“Yeah.” He whispered, finally admitting his desire to have a family. “What do you think?”

He wouldn’t push the matter if you don’t feel the same. As much as he loved the idea of having mini versions of both of you, there was no way he would force you to do it.

“Mhm… I think you’d also be a great dad.” Your voice was as soft as his, indulging in this little moment of intimacy and raw honesty.

The word dad rings in his mind. His life before having his ranch was violence-filled, then years of solitude surrounded by nothing but nature cornered him to think that being alone was his destiny. Now, you brought him a newfound desire to come back home and finding you and your child. A family.

“You think so?”

“Absolutely.”

Leon had a silly smile formed on his face. His dreams were actually achievable and domesticity and tranquility were now his everyday life.

“We can try if you want.” You added, feeling how Leon continued drawing shapes on your stomach. “How many would you like?”

Leon didn’t think he would get this far.

“Want me to be honest?” Leon’s lips curled into a mischievous smile. “I wouldn’t mind having an entire football team with you.” He joked, hearing how you gasped in response.

“Leon!” You slapped his hand out of your abdomen. “I’m the one having them!”

Both of you laughed as the night embraced both of you like a blanket. Confessions have never been so much welcomed as tonight’s.

“I love you.” He murmured as his eyes closed. It was a reassurance that whatever life had in store for both of you, he would gladly accept it.

“I love you more.” You replied with the same fondness as always. Drifting off to sleep was easier than ever.

Days passed and the conversation wasn’t forgotten. Nonetheless, you let the flow of time and life decide for both of you.

Daily chores needed to be completed no matter what. So, he’s now washing his hands after feeding the horses. You’re holding the garden hose which makes a wet mess given the force of the water.

“Didn’t know it was raining.” Leon jokes as the water soaks his shirt and pants.

“Shit, sorry.” You turn off the garden hose as you giggle watching how drenched Leon looks.

And while you are genuinely sorry since Leon still has things to do on the farm, you can’t help but appreciate the image your husband is offering. White shirt now see-through, giving you the perfect view of his soft abdomen clinging to the fabric.

When you first met Leon, he had told you what an amazing body he had. With so much pride, he once showed you pictures of his past self. Images of a toned torso and strong arms would look appealing to your eyes. But each time Leon and you are intimate, you get to feel his slightly rounder belly pressed against you, his strong arms clinging to you. In those moments you can’t help but thank God for the gorgeous man you have.

“Enjoying the view?” Leon breaks the silence when he feels your eyes not leaving his body.

“Maybe…” You quietly whisper as you drop the hose and walk closer to him. “Can’t help it, my husband is so handsome.” You add, hiding your face in the crook of his neck. Inevitably, you inhaled the scent you have grown to love.

For a moment, you stay there, just drowning in the affection letting your hands rest on his sides unaware of how Leon could feel the slight friction of your breasts against his soaked shirt. The thin fabric of your dress does a poor job of preventing Leon’s hands from wandering around your body.

A pool of arousal starts setting in Leon as he reaches your ass and gives it a firm squeeze.

With one swift and smooth move, he lifts you off the ground. Your feet are no longer touching the floor as Leon walks away from the barn. And, as if on command, you wrap your legs around his torso, allowing him to walk easier to whatever destination he had in mind.

For once, Leon hates the fact that he owns a big ass farm. His place is a bit far away from the barn, so his decisions are fogged by the desire and neediness he is feeling at the moment. Years in solitude led him to think he was imponent but with the way his jeans seem to get tighter each time your lower half brushes against his, he knows it's not true.

He is a gentleman, don’t get him wrong. He’d have picked you up and carried you to his bedroom as usual, laid you on the bed, taken off your clothes, and fucked you gently (or rough) like he usually did. However, a newfound wish piqued his interest, and even though you're in a secluded area, he wishes everyone would know what pretty girl he got.

Without further thinking and no complaints made, he places you down on the grass. The sensation of the blades tickling your skin is, in a way, bothersome, but your brain is easily turned into mush every time Leon dares to touch you.

Leon, however, wouldn’t allow you to feel any discomfort. His sun-kissed skin would be exposed in swift motion as he takes off his wet shirt. Those antagonizing seconds of admiring him unbuttoning the fabric push you to press your thighs together, seeking any type of release or mere pleasure.

“Up,” And after those endless seconds of him taking off his shirt, his hand taps your hip, motioning you to lift the lower half of your body for him to lay his shirt there. Giving no second thoughts, you raise your rear, pathetically quick, and Leon notices. “So needy, have I been slacking off?”

And his tone gives him away. He is looking forward to letting nature be the witness of your lustful acts. The sun being your light and the grass your makeshift bed. His body embraces the position on top of you.

“Of course I have.” He cooes, bringing his face lower and lower before pressing his cheek against your inner thigh. His stubble resembles sandpaper with how it scratches your skin, but at this point, it brings more pleasure than annoyance. “Look at her, already crying for me.”

His breath tickles the middle area between your legs. The wet spot in your panties is obvious to Leon who wastes no time to bring up that fact. And you want to thank yourself for choosing a dress today because there is no way you could do anything besides laying on the grass and letting Leon treat you so nicely and tenderly.

“How could I?” He hums against the soaked patch of the fabric. “Been neglecting my pretty girl.” He presses a kiss on your clothed area, dragging down the anticipated pleasure you’re looking for.

“Mhm… please.” Your babbles gain a chuckle out of Leon’s lips. He is enjoying the whole setting, he wouldn’t have known he had a thing for outdoor sex but then again, he loves discovering new things with you.

Antagonistically, he lifts your dress until it reaches your abdomen and exposes your lower half.

And finally, his fingers hook around the sides of your panties, yanking down the fabric, allowing himself to admire the way he has made a mess of you already.

As always, he was ready for his favorite meal in the whole world.

Lying on his stomach, he props up on his elbows, his mouth dives into your pussy as his tongue laps at your clit. A moan escapes your lips as the sensation of being eaten out by Leon floods your mind and soul.

He feasts like a starved man, like he is eating his favorite dessert. He delves into your aching hole, his tongue tasting the sweet and well-known flavor of your juices. He brings your legs over his shoulders, propping you to raise your lower half and reach even deeper.

“Shit,” Your fingers tangle in his dirty blond hair, shoving his face into your cunt. His lips suck your clit, paying close attention to that part, drawing moans and whines out of you.

A plethora of names are being said as Leon continues being trapped between your thighs. He flicks his tongue while he feels how some of your slick drips to his stubble. And with the way your legs squeeze him even tighter, he can already guess you’re feeling so much pleasure from his tongue alone.

You arch your back, trying to bring him even closer to your core. The wet noises of his saliva and your slick mix with the outdoor ones. The soft rustling of the trees’ leaves and the birds chirping are a reminder of the scenario you both are in.

Whimpers leave your lips as Leon's tongue makes out with your cunt. Your fingers grip the shirt Leon placed as a makeshift blanket. Heat starts pooling in your belly as the antagonizing seconds of Leon eating you out bring you to the edge.

At last, your body jerks and comes undone in Leon’s grasp. He holds you in place, flattening his tongue to collect every drop of your slick. He could easily cum too just by the fact he was tasting your release.

“My sweet girl, always so perfect for me.” He finally disconnects from your pussy to crawl back to where your face is. He places some kisses on your neck which is glistening with a layer of sweat given how much pleasure you were previously feeling.

At last, his lips reach yours and he passionately kisses you. You could easily taste yourself in the kiss yet you don’t care at this very moment.

For a moment, he indulges in the tenderness of the kiss after bringing you to heaven with just his tongue alone. However, the easily noticeable restraint in his jeans was getting harder to control.

You feel him grind against you, seeking any type of friction to ease the aching feeling of his erection.

“Leon… I can’t….” Leon’s intentions are obvious as you feel his clothed dick humping your leg like a needy man yet, you are still tender from your ecstasy.

“You can…” He brings his face against the crook of your neck once again, placing wet kisses around your skin. “Just one more baby.”

He pleads, he begs, he needs to feel you wrapped around him. Those thoughts about leaving his mark, leaving his seed in you are still pretty much present. So at last, you nod. That’s when you can feel a smile forming on his lips which continue being pressed against your neck.

“Thank you, thank you.” Acting like he hasn’t touched for ages, you hear the rustle of fabric and his belt buckle falling to the ground. You see how his dick springs out of his boxers when he pulls them down, already leaking precum just from eating you out.

In less than a second, you feel him collecting your previous release, sliding his cock through your folds with such ease that it had you gripping air.

“Fuck…” He murmurs as he pushes himself painfully slowly, taking his time to feel how your walls tighten around his length. Pinned underneath him, you feel overwhelmed by the sensation of having his body so close to you.

“My pretty wife…” He whispers as he is finally all the way in. “Look at you, so pretty full of me.” He adds while one of his hands caresses your hair.

He starts gently rocking against your body, the pace is slow and comforting as if trying to remember the way your velvety walls clamp his dick, the stretch being something you’re accustomed to.

“I love you so much, you know that?” He says as he thrusts inside of you, this time a little more urgently. The hand that was previously running through your hair wraps around your waist and lifts it slightly.

“Mhm…yes.” You nod as your eyes lock with his, witnessing a newfound desire you haven’t seen before. Maybe it was the fact that both of you are outdoors, you don’t know.

The sounds of his skin slapping against yours mix with your heavy breaths. The perfect music for the perfect scenario. As soon as Leon hits that sweet spot of yours, you whimper his name like a mantra.

And then again, the thought of a family floods his mind. The mental image of your belly stretching out, making space for the baby is everything he longs for. And not only that, but he craves to take care of you, his pretty wife. You wouldn’t need to lift a finger for the nine months of pregnancy.

“Wanna fill you up.” He finally confesses in a moan. He isn’t a stranger to dirty talk, you know it well. The way his words come out like a promise and an already-made decision is proof of his not so hidden wish. “This farm is lonely with just the two of us…”

And as he presses his forehead against yours, you see in his eyes the devotion he has for you. The same man that promised you the world is now promising a life, a new life who is going to be the perfect combination of both you and him.

“What’chu mean?” You feign ignorance just for the sake of hearing those words coming out of his mouth again. And as you try to say some more teasing words, you can feel the way his thrusts get rougher as if trying to make a statement. The statement being that he wouldn’t stop until you get pregnant.

“You know what I mean…” He is huffing by now, letting out a grunt as he utters those words. “Wanna get you nice and full.”

Ultimately, your dreams are the same as his. So you allow him to transform this dream of his into his—your—reality now.

“Yeah?” You say through your teeth, trying not to whimper from the fact that his cock is reaching so deep into you.

“Yeah.” He groans, his sticky forehead never leaving yours as he looks into your eyes and your dazed-out expression. “You’re gonna look so goddamn beautiful as a momma.”

Out of desperation to fuck you even deeper, he brings your legs to his shoulders, just like he previously did when he was eating you out. But this time, it is an attempt to let his dick mark your womb.

It is his mission to one day see a positive test. It’s his mission to show his devotion to his princess and the now-future mother of his children. He’d never stop looking at the telltale of his seed making its home in your body.

He wouldn’t let you do anything besides resting and growing your little miracle. He’d cook, he’d clean, he’d feed you if you ask him to.

“Keep squeezing me like that, I’m gonna—fuck—cum…” He effortlessly bends your knees even more, bringing them closer to your chest. “Gonna fill you up until I’m so damn empty.”

He takes advantage of the vulnerable position you’re in to bring a hand to your clit. Rubbing it, he waits for the imminent climax of both of you.

“Cum for me, princess.” He presses his body on top of you, the position allowing him to let out an almost growl against your ear. The sense of purpose that Leon is showing prompts you to finally reach your climax. With a broken voice and your fingernails leaving crescent moons on his back, you coat his dick with your release. A gooey ring forms at the base of his cock every time he pulls in and out of you.

His actions don’t stop there, though. He was so close to spilling right inside you and making his dreams come true. He brings the hand that was previously teasing your clit to your face, brushing away some of your hair that has stuck to your forehead, he looks right into your eyes.

“Fucking love you so much.” He grunts, his deep sea eyes never leaving yours, as if trying to engrave this moment in his mind. To forever remember the time when he finally achieved his dream. “You’ll be the prettiest momma ever.”

Although his thrusts are too much for you to handle and the overstimulation turns into a slight discomfort, the way his hand is gently caressing your cheek—a juxtaposition of his determined attempt of marking you— makes you melt on the spot.

And especially since the cold feeling of his wedding ring reminds you of the amazing man you married.

“I'm cumming.” He warns you as his thrusts get sloppy and without rhythm. He's seeing stars at this moment, every time he plunges his dick into you he reaches the sky. And at last, with the way his breath gets laboured and heavy, it announces his high coming.

The head of his dick spurts rope after rope of cum into you, the angle you are in makes it easier for it not to drip out of you. He wouldn’t allow a drop of his seed to go to waste.

You feel the warm and thick liquid filling your insides, proof of Leon’s actions and therefore fulfilled wish. For a moment, you stay there letting his weight crush you and your bent legs.

After a while, he slowly slips out of you, carefully placing your legs on the ground. You feel the grass blades tickling your calves where Leon’s shirt doesn’t reach.

Leon rests his arm next to your head, admiring the dazed-out expression you have after letting him fill you.

“Hey…” He murmurs before letting out a soft chuckle.

“Hi you.” You respond with a smile amidst the exhaustion that is running through your veins. “We really just did that.”

“Yeah…” In his eyes, you can observe how much love he has for you and how eager he is to know if this one dream will be a reality.

With his free hand, he grabs yours and places soft pecks on your knuckles.

“Are you okay?” He once again speaks, now making sure you are alright.

“More than okay.”

He gives your knuckles one last kiss before he lets out a breathy laugh, shaking his head while doing so.

“A penny for your thoughts?” You ask.

“Nothing…” He shakes his head once again. “It's just that… I may have some dad jokes already prepared.”

“Shut up, Leon.”

You couldn’t wait to know if your dreams were achieved by this act. You couldn’t wait to see if your life could get even better than this. And especially, you couldn’t wait to experience being a family.

💬 shadesoflsk: Comments, reblogs and likes are very much appreciated.

#leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy fluff #leon kennedy smut #leon kennedy #leon s kennedy #resident evil

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barleyo · 7 months ago

Text

Rural Bliss.

Real Dad! Leon X F! Reader (smut)

A/N: You, as a reader, are responsible for your own media consumption. It is up to you to read the tags that I have provided and determine whether or not this is a piece of writing that you would like to partake in. If not, scroll on by, if you do, please enjoy! Remember, I am not responsible for any discomfort you feel if you choose to read this.

Tags: incest (daddy-daughter), dub-con, oral (f receiving), LARGE AGE GAP (18 and 40+), pwp (light plot), mentions of predatory behavior, mutual creepiness, dark and disturbing content, choppy ass writing

Wordcount: 1.8k

!!! DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT/DARK CONTENT !!!

Your mom had finally done it. She found a halfway decent guy and let him wife her up faster than you could say 'I do.' You weren't exactly mad about it. He was a decent enough guy, and he made your mom happy, so whatever. The only part that you were against was the fact that you would be staying with your estranged father for the rest of your summer until your mom and her boy-toy got back from their extensive honeymoon.

Your dad fucked off pretty quickly after you were born. Moved himself far away into the middle of nowhere, not once reaching out or keeping in touch. A small part of you wanted to know him, but a larger part of you was pissed that you would have to now temporarily live with a man who you could just barely remember the name of.

What was it again? Leonard? Lucas? No, no, that's not right. Leon? Yeah, something like that. Leon.

Leon, the man who left you and your mom. The man who, instead of raising you, decided to lick his wounds in the deep country, likely making a meager living off of growing potatoes and carrots. The man who was a stranger, connected to you only by blood.

The man whose front porch you were currently standing on, banging on his door without a care in the world. You looked around while you knocked. It was a large bit of land. A few neighbors nearby, but not within spitting distance. At the very least, this town had a few stores with maybe a few people your age lingering around them.

"I'm coming, damn it!" His steps were loud, you could hear them from all the way outside. The heaviness of his work boots must've weighed him down quite a bit. The screen door flew open and his face softened. "Oh, hey kid. Didn't know you'd be here so early. Come in."

You followed him inside, letting your eyes trail his face and frame. You'd only seen a picture or two of him before. He wasn't quite what you were expecting. He looked a lot older now than he did in the photos. More tired, less lively. His crow's feet and smile lines stuck out, but if the lonely, uncomfortable vibe of his house was any clue, you assumed he hadn't been smiling much in his life.

He wasn't bad looking, though. Time hasn't weathered him, and you could tell he took care of himself. His arms and chest looked strong, clearly he had found some way to stay fit out in his desolate chunk of farmer-country. You could see why your mom picked him. He looked like a good one, despite his fleeting nature.

"You're gonna be stayin' for a few months, yeah?" Leon didn't seem uncomfortable with your presence, so you felt a bit more calm.

"Yeah, I guess so. Mom didn't really give me all the details, just kinda sprung it on me."

"Believe me, I know," he said under his breath. "Well, this place isn't much, 'm sure it's not what you're used to." He locked the door behind you and flashed an apologetic look.

"It's fine. I'll make it work." You looked around. It looked lived in, strangely worn despite nobody else ever living there.

He led you down a dimly lit hallway, the floorboards groaning beneath their weight, until they reached a single room. It was a small bedroom, adorned with faded wallpaper and completely wooden furniture. The single window offered a glimpse of the bare, green landscape outside.

"This'll be your room. You can unpack your things."

Hardly a week passed by and you were already sick to death of living with your dad. His jokes were bad. His cooking was shit. His attempts at bonding with you were creepy at best and damn near-assault at worst. He let his hands drift all over you when he pulled you in for hugs and tried pecking a kiss on your mouth before you went off to bed each night, and damn it, you let him.

Again and again, every night, letting that old man press his chapped lips against yours, holding back your urge to force your tongue into his mouth.

He bought you gifts that no other fathers would think about getting their daughters. Skimpy little clothes that left nothing to the imagination, while he wrote it off by claiming ignorance.

"That's what girls your age wear, right? I can't keep up with what you kids are into," Leon would say, covering his ass with feigned dopiness.

His only redeeming quality was that he was hot and mostly oblivious. It was fucked up to think about it that way, but without having much other male contact during your stay, Leon was starting to becoming quite the piece of eye candy. The best part is that he thought nothing of it, acting like his teenaged daughter spending hours staring at his half-naked, sweaty body while he worked in the hot sun was normal. Just another day. Nothing special.

He didn't make you work on the farm with him, so you got to do all the watching. You got to see those strong arms lift hay bales for the horses and chop trees for firewood. Most of your days were spent watching him from the front porch, mentally cursing yourself out when you felt your thighs clench together instinctually at his sexy movements.

What was wrong with you?

Were years of fatherlessness finally catching up to you? Couldn't muster any real love for the old man, so sexual yearning was the next best thing? Eye-fucking your dad and sharing touches that lasted too long were the cost of him skipping out on you.

You rationalized it the best you could. Maybe you didn't actually want him, maybe the solitude of the countryside was getting to you. Maybe there was something in the air, some kind of sex-pollen floating in the breeze that made you wanna get bent over by a man twice your age that just so happened to be related to you. Closely related.

Leon didn't really know how to treat a woman well, but he tried his best with you. It was his first time really being a dad, but honestly, he hated it. Being a 'dad' sucked, especially when he'd rather have his daughter as his girlfriend.

You made him so frustrated, so unsure of himself. Leon's only experience with girl's your age was in getting them liquor they couldn't legally buy themselves, fucking them like plastic sex dolls, and leaving them for someone else to woo and screw.

He couldn't quite do that to you, though. He couldn't get you drunk and take advantage of you, pumping and dumping in you without a care about your pleasure. He had to take care of you, your health and comfort. All he really wanted was to take care of your body.

You were his little girl. He'd fuck you like he actually gave a damn about you if he ever got the chance, and he most definitely wouldn't be leaving you for anyone else.

That type of thinking brought him here.

"Daddy, please..."

The walls in his house were too damn thin. He could practically hear each thrust of your fingers into your cunt from his bedroom. Your bed screeched agonizingly against the floors, punctuating your moans and hisses of pleasure.

He saw his opportunity and took it. He had waited long enough, and this was the least he could do, right? You needed him, right? Right.

He pushed your door open, not having the decency nor the self-restraint to knock. You felt your body go still, but kept your hands between your legs.

"If you needed me, coulda told me. Don't like t'hear you in here whining." Leon sat on the edge of your bed, crawling his way between your legs. "Fuck, that's pretty."

He took in the sight of your fingers stuffed into your pudgy cunt, slick dripping between each digit.

"No, you're—! this isn't what it—" you tried prying your fingers out, but a strong hand wrapped around your wrist to keep you in place.

"Isn't what it looks like? How about what it sounds like, huh? Sounds like you want your daddy to dull that ache in you."

He was so far gone. He normally never did this. Leon was a man who took. He took younger girls virginity, mouth, pussy, or other. He was the one that got sucked off and got his perv dick wet. But for his baby? You, the little nymph who fell gracefully into his grasp? He was foaming at the mouth for a chance to slurp your pussy.

"Open up, come on. Got nothin' to be shy about," he urged, forcing your legs open, pulling your fingers out, and shimmying closer to you. "Nothin' I haven't seen before."

That was somewhat of a lie. Sure, he saw pussies all the time when he bullied his cock into them, but he was normally never nose to clit, ready to lick.

He stuck his needy tongue out, lapping up the juices that you worked up when you rubbed yourself raw. He swirled around you clit as a test, trying to see what felt good for you. He soon settled on puckering his lips around your bud and sucking, swapping his spit in and out of his mouth to keep you lubed up.

Your voice broke with hushed whines and chants. Yes's and oh's rang out, filling Leon's ears and his ego.

He pulled his head back and lob a wad of spit onto your clit, chuckling when you shivered.

"Feel good?" His thumb traced your clit in little figure eights.

"Mm, s'good." Your hands trailed through his thick, soft hair. You gripped it tightly, pulling his head back to your cunt. "No, don't stop, jus' need your mouth again."

His sharp, strong nose bumped against the top of your pussy while he munched down on you greedily. His tongue traveled around you in an indecisive manner. One moment, he was using flat strokes to lick on your swollen nub, then pointing his tongue while he fucked it in and out of you.

Despite the sporadic nature of it, the warmth and wetness of the contact of his mouth on you felt like heaven. It didn't matter what he was doing, as long as he was looking up at you with his piercing eyes and swallowing down your slick, you were satisfied.

"Dad, oh my God, yes!" It felt like venom coming off of your tongue when you moaned it, but tasted like honey at the same time. Something about it was so wrong, but felt so natural.

As your legs tightened around Leon's head and trapped him between your thighs, you knew it was meant to be. You were meant to be your daddy's princess. You were meant to feel like mouth on you, to be spoiled by his tongue, words, money, and his cock. You had been missing out on it for so long.

You spent the rest of your summer making up for lost time, discovering just what having a daddy was meant to feel like.

#smutfic #leon s kennedy x reader #cw incest #tw inc*st #dark content #dead dove fic #resident evil x reader #resident evil #leon s kennedy smut #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x y/n #leon s kennedy #resident evil smut #resident evil x you #leon kennedy imagine #leon kennedy x you

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rinachains · 3 months ago

Text

synopsis: in which your leader invites you for a drink and you see a new side of him.

wc: 2.1k

contents: drabble; cult leader!geto x gn!reader; tipsy, clingy geto; fluff, small warning for cult!leader geto lol; alcohol consumption

a/n: reblogs and comments are very much appreciated!

It wasn’t necessarily unusual for Geto to invite you to join him in his office. Usually, though, you drank tea or coffee and sipped your soothing beverages as you chatted about your day, your duties and anything else that came to mind. You actually assumed he didn't drink alcohol at all - until now.

You were currently standing in his dimly lit office after he asked you to come over earlier that day, taking in the view of him pulling out a bottle of sake and two glasses, putting them on the small, wooden table in front of him. His long, silky onyx hair was tied back in a low ponytail, his usual monk attire had been discarded and replaced with a plain black robe that revealed a glimpse of his strong, broad chest. You could see a faint, healed scar on his otherwise smooth, pale skin. It was unfair how beautiful he looked without even trying, how ethereal.

“Are you planning on joining me eventually or do you want to stand by the door for the rest of the evening?” His purple eyes met yours, a glint reflecting in them, drawing you to him as if you were a crow seeing a shiny object. “C’mon, you know I won’t bite.”

Feeling a little flustered about acting so awkward, you hurriedly walked over to the table where you sat down opposite him on the soft cushions beneath you and crossed your legs to make yourself more comfortable. You couldn't help but naively think that this felt a bit like a date, but you knew better, didn't you? You were just driven by your own hormones because you weren't quite used to the attention of a man like him yet.

“Is there an occasion for this or did you just suddenly feel the urge to get drunk, Master Geto?”, you asked in a subtle, amused tone to relax yourself and get rid of the tension, raising an eyebrow as you eyed the table.

“No special occasion, I just wanted to share a drink with you.”

“Oh, but I don’t really drink”, you said sheepishly, holding your hand out in front of you. “I mean, I could go for one glass of sake, but I’m afraid that’s my limit.”

He chuckled, looking up briefly through his eyelashes before concentrating on pouring the drinks. “Are you a lightweight or just not fond of the taste?”

“Both, I guess.”

“I’m not much of a drinker either, but I thought it could help with relaxing. This week was pretty draining.”

Every time you two would have your little meetings, he would actually indulge you by sharing how his day went and what he’s planning next, but it never truly went deeper than that, solely scratching the surface. You weren't sure if he ever told you how he really felt. He held back, and you couldn't blame him for that. You always wondered why his hatred for non-sorcerers ran so deep, why he started this cult, what finally made him do what he's doing now. You desperately wanted to know and absorb everything about him, but you had to hold back. You wanted him to open up on his own because you were afraid you might overstep your boundaries and destroy the casual bond you two had forged.

He hummed approvingly as he observed you bringing your filled cup up to your mouth and taking small, measured sips. “Self-restraint is good, it’s quite hard to not be greedy.”

Then, contrary to you, he downed his drink in one go, making you choke back a startled laugh. His tongue darted out to lick the remaining liquid on his lips as he put his cup down. You felt your mouth fall slightly open at the sight, resisting the urge to copy him and lick your own lips.

It’s been about a year and a half since you joined Geto’s side. You remembered that day clearly, every single detail burned into your brain.

He was a stranger approaching you in his monk's robes, and for a moment you assumed you were surely going to be dragged into a cult. Which wasn't entirely wrong - you were technically part of a cult now, except you were the one doing the scamming, and he was helping you discover something very important about yourself - your cursed energy and technique.

Years, almost decades, of feeling as if you were crazy, until you met someone who finally understood and proofed to you that you weren’t crazy, but, in fact, special. You were no longer lonely; for once you were surrounded by people and there was no loneliness that weighed you down.

He was your leader, but he never made you feel inferior. Your group was more like a family; that’s what he said to you from the beginning, what he promised with such earnest enthusiasm. You’d join his family, become a part of it, a new member. You’d finally belong.

It also didn’t help that he was handsome – devilishly so. You didn't think you'd ever met anyone as captivating as him, with eyes so keen and sharp, smile so nihilistic and almost cruel, voice so gentle and soothing. Truthfully, he had you under his spell the moment you encountered those purple hues.

Normally, he was carrying himself in such a collected, mature manner, domineering and commanding but without being brash and forceful – he was a natural leader who effortlessly managed to wrap others around his long fingers, including you.

Now, as the two of you were sitting here, and you slowly finished your one drink and he was already on his third one, there was a light flush coating his cheeks, his hair lightly disheveled, a few more strands than usual hanging in his face, framing his delicate, sharp features. It gave him a boyish charm that made the corner of your lips curl up, your cheeks feeling warm (and not just from the alcohol). It was vulnerable in a way; you wondered if you were the first one to see him in such a state. The thought of someone else getting this view made your stomach churn; you wanted to be the first and the only one. A view reserved for you eyes only.

“Let me pour you another one, Master Geto”, you exclaimed, reaching out for the bottle and carefully pouring more liquid in his cup.

His eyes intently followed your movements, hand twitching with the secret urge to pet your head and relish the softness of your hair. So eager to please.

“Suguru.”

“Huh?”, you quickly turned your attention towards him again, just as you put down the bottle on the table.

“Call me Suguru.” His head tilted to the side, bang swinging with his lazy movements, and he put his hands behind him, leaning back. “We’ve known each other for a while now. And I trust you. Shouldn’t the person I trust call me by my first name?”

“You-“, you choked out a response, flustered by his unexpected directness, “you can’t just say things like that.”

“Why not?”, he gave you a look of genuine confusion, making you hold back a chuckle at his current childlike nature. “I want to be honest with the people I care about.”

A huff escaped your lips, more collected now. “I guess that checks out since you lie so much on a daily basis.”

“Hmh, exactly”, he purred, a deep rumble vibrating in his chest and you swore you could almost feel it despite the small distance between you. “I have to lie so much to these monkeys, ‘have to play pretend. I don’t have to do that with you.” Something akin to a blissful expression formed on his face and his voice was so insufferably sultry, dripping honey that you could almost taste on your own tongue.

You pursed your lips, biting the inside of your cheek. “But you’re still my leader, it wouldn’t be really appropriate to call you by your first name”, you paused for a moment, watching his face and thinking for a brief moment that it almost looked like he was sulking. “Plus the other ones still call you Master Geto.”

“Mhm but that is different”, he sighed, confusing you even more. Different how? “And, if you insist that I’m your leader, then I give you the order to call me by my first name. You can’t resist my orders, can you?”

You let out a sigh in return, sounding exhausted, though you weren’t sure from what exactly. Maybe it was time to go for you, feeling like you’d lose your mind the longer you were with him in his current (incredibly irresistible) state.

“I believe I have to go now, Suguru. I have to be up early tomorrow.” You carefully got up from your sitting position and turned your back to him, and just as you were about to walk towards the door, you were suddenly held back and placed on the floor again, making you let out a gasp.

Strong arms were wrapped around your waist, holding onto your stomach, lightly squeezing, but still considerate with their touch. Geto’s scent enveloped you, something earthy and fresh, and just so addictive. It smelled like home. The warmth he radiated surrounded you, you were able to feel his broadness and his muscles against your body, reminding you of a shield rather than a cage. You didn’t believe you ever felt so secure.

“Don’t go.”

“Suguru…”

“Stay here. S’comfortable when you’re around.” Oh.

You tilted your head, looking over your shoulder to get a glimpse of his face, only for your nose to almost touch his cheek. A shiver ran down your spine. His eyes were half-lidded, pupils dilated, and his eyebrows slightly furrowed; he appeared almost pained. As if the mere thought of you leaving him would hurt him deeply. You felt your knees getting weaker and you became overly aware of the way you were breathing, trying to tell yourself to take normal, regular breaths.

“Say: do you like being here?”, you felt his warm breath hitting your bare nape as he lowered his head, your hair standing up and goosebumps covering your body. “Do you ever regret joining me?”

Surprised by his sudden questioning, you raised your eyebrows. “Have I given you the impression that I did?”

His thin lips dropped into something resembling a pout. “Answer my question.”

You resisted the urge to poke his forehead, instead holding your hands still by your sides, lightly grazing his arms that were still wrapped around you, his finger caressing your covered stomach in soothing circles. “No, I never regretted joining you. In fact, I believe it was the best thing that could have happened to me.”

He hummed, somewhat satisfied by your answer yet still skeptical.

“You could have lived a simpler life.”

“Sure, perhaps I could have lived a life in blissful ignorance”, you huffed. “But I also would have lived the rest of my life wondering what’s wrong with me. Maybe I would have become mad at some point. You gave me the answers I needed, and more. You gave me purpose.”

Geto was sure – sooner or later Satoru would have discovered you and taken you under his wing. You would have become a jujutsu sorcerer; putting your life at risk, just to save monkeys who neither cared nor were even aware of your existence. No, he couldn’t have allowed this. The thought made his skin crawl, images of you being life stock haunting his mind. You were made for something better, you deserved more than that, to be untainted and free from the shackles of jujutsu society. Only he could give you that. Perhaps he was selfish in that way, for needing to have you by his side, but he would gladly indulge in that selfishness if it promised your proximity to him and your safety.

You directed your stare towards the ceiling, a contemplative expression grazing your features. “I guess you saved me.”

You couldn’t see how his eyes were now less drowsy and became bigger, a sparkle appearing in them, and how the colors in his already reddened cheeks seemed to deepen.

“Saved you, huh”, he murmured under his breath, voice coming out muffled as he tucked his chin further into your shoulder, almost nuzzling you. Your heart stuttered at the contact, cursing him internally for touching you so casually, for acting so intimate with you.

“I’ll always keep you safe. That’s a promise. No filth should ever touch or harm you.”

“That’s quite a big promise.”

His hand grabbed your chin then, a gentle yet firm grip, the sheer size of his large palm covering it, fingertips barely grazing your bottom lip. He held your gaze, so intense and unwavering that it made your throat dry and afraid to swallow. “I mean it.”

“Alright”, you whispered, as if it was a secret only the two of you should know, forming an invisible string that held you together. “I’ll hold you to it.”

#jjk x reader #geto x reader #geto suguru x reader #suguru x reader #suguru geto x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #fluff #drabble #geto x you #suguru x you #geto suguru x you

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pandora-writes-one-piece · 2 months ago

Note

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO ONE OF THE BEST AUTHORS ON THIS PLATFORM.

I have a request is there any way you could do the “I’ve never met anyone as infuriating as you, and I can’t stop thinking about you" prompt but with Zoro. Having a female reader just recently joined the crew only for them to be enemies. Both of them have a history of being enemies and now the whole crew sees them fight so the other is 5ft feet under. Only for them to be confused as to why their heart beats like crazy around each other.

Would really appreciate it if you did my request! 🥰🙏

Thank you so much for your kind words @mars-mizuko and @beachaddict48 🥰🥰 I love reading your reactions to my little silly stories and I tried my hardest to make you happy with this request! It turned out a bit bigger than the others, but I don't want to limit myself with the story I want to tell and I've accepted that some requests will have bigger fics than others! I do sincerely hope you enjoy this! Thank you for participating in the event and for all of your support!

Source for Pic

Backstabber

Word Count: 3637

Tags: fem!reader; enemies to lovers; suggestive content; implied sex; cursing; sexual tension; idiots in love;

Special Warning: English is not my first language, I apologise for any possible spelling or grammar mistakes.

Summary: You never thought you'd meet the infamous bounty hunter Roronoa Zoro again after four years apart. Yet here you are, part of his crew, and all he wants is to get rid of you.

|Masterlist|

“No, Luffy.”

Two words. Just two words and I already want to rip his head off his shoulders. This is gonna be great!

“Why?” Luffy cocks his head to the side, his pinky reaching inside his nose in search of the annoyance there.

“Shut up, Mosshead!” Sanji growls, his face close to Zoro’s closed-off expression. “Luffy, yes. She would be the most wonderful addition to our crew.”

Aw, see, the cook’s nice!

“She’s not trustworthy.” The swordsman has both his eyes closed but you can see the way his jaw ticks as he tries to keep his emotions at bay.

“Ditto, Roronoa, yet I just helped save your ass.” You bite back. Two can play the accusation game. It’s actually been four years since the last time you saw Roronoa Zoro. He was skinnier then, less… bulk. Still the same asshole, though.

His eye snaps open and you notice yet another difference. He’s more dangerous, ruthless, and predatory. “Measure your words, Backstabber. I’m not the same man I was four years ago.”

You inch forward, squaring your shoulders and measuring up to his height, even if you can’t reach it. “It’s too bad I am not the same woman I was four years ago, either.”

Nami and Robin watch the interaction with veiled smirks. Sanji is seething and being restrained by Franky to prevent him from attacking Zoro for speaking rudely to a lady.

“Welcome her in, Luffy.” Robin says with a hint of amusement in her voice.

“I’d say she fits right in, Cap.” Nami says with a chuckle.

And just like that, you’re welcomed into the most dysfunctional pirate crew you’ve ever met.

-*-

You and Zoro don’t like each other. Period. There’s no truce, there isn’t even a semblance of a fake peace. It’s an all-out conflict between the two of you and the Sunny has become an active warzone.

“I don’t want you anywhere near my space, Backstabber!”

“You don’t own the ship, Roronoa!”

Nami accepts the refreshment Sanji brings her and sighs, tilting her head up to where the two of you are bickering. You just wanted to train and shake away inertia, and the crow’s nest is where the barbells are.

But nooo, Mr. Salty claims that this is his space! As if he fucking owns the ship.

“LUFFY!” You both yell out the window trying to get your captain to resolve your issue this time.

“It’s been a week.” Robin says weakly from her perch on the lawn chair.

“I don’t know how much more of this I can take.” Nami whispers back to her.

“Guys, make it stop, they’re so loud!” Chopper whines as he cuddles in Robin’s lap.

Luffy, bless him, doesn’t even move from his spot, so you sigh, pushing your index finger and thumb against the bridge of your nose trying to contain the massive migraine threatening to settle behind your eyes.

“Look here, Roronoa, we have to make this work. Whether we like it or not, we are now Nakama and-...”

“I could never be your Nakama!” He hisses, dropping the barbell near his feet with the loudest thud imaginable. Sweat drips from his hair and runs down his temples, making the vein there glisten as it throbs menacingly. His (big, muscular, defined) chest heaves from barely contained rage and you force your eyes to settle back on his face because, somehow, the sight of his sweaty, glistening pecs turns you hot and bothered for reasons that have nothing to do with anger.

“Well boo-freaking-hoo. Learn to deal with it, will you? You’re a big boy.” You say slowly, emphasising each word with a step in his direction. You’re taken aback by your closeness when his scent envelops you and dazes you in more ways than one.

It’s familiar and comforting: steel, salt, sweat…

But it’s also intoxicating and dangerous and new…

Fuck.

-*-

It’s only been one week and Zoro is ready to throw you overboard. Too bad you don’t have a devil fruit or he could watch you sink without a hint of remorse. That being the case, it would just be funny as hell to watch you get pissed off at him while soaking wet.

Wet like you are now.

He found you in the middle of your workout in his crow’s nest using his training equipment in his space. You’d been there long enough for sweat to make your hair cling to your forehead, for your top to turn a darker shade and cling sinfully to your curves, and for your sweet scent to mingle with his sanctuary, making his head spin.

Zoro feels like growling, though he’s not sure if he’s growling for the right reasons.

And now you’re approaching him with fearless steps, your finger pointing at him accusingly, while your lusciously plump lips form words: ‘boo-freaking-hoo’. And all he can think about is how your lips would feel wrapped around his cock.

“Get the fuck out.” He growls for real this time and you stop pacing. He knows he’s giving off a dangerous aura and he means it. Because his heart is doing some freaking weird shit he doesn’t want to dissect right now and he needs you out of his sight.

Immediately.

It’s a good thing you obey and scurry out - still pissed and calling him all sorts of names, though - because the strain in his pants was about to force him to bend you over the nearest surface and have his way with you.

And he definitely can’t do that.

-*-

Eventually, with mediation from Robin and Franky, you and Zoro settle on a schedule for using the crow’s nest to train. It’s not so hard, since Zoro spends half the morning and afternoon napping, leaving you plenty of time for your daily workout.

“Why do you and Zoro hate each other?” Chopper asks innocently during lunch, and the table falls into an awkward silence. No one tries to change the subject since everyone’s curious.

A heavy sigh escapes your lips as memories from the past come rushing back. You and Zoro used to bounty hunt together. You met randomly while tracking the same wanted pirate. After beating the pirate’s crew and helping each other out, you split the bounty and became friends.

From then on, the friendship blossomed. Zoro had an easier laugh before, he wasn’t so guarded, so closed off.

Did I cause him to be like that?

You bonded. Actually, so much more than that, you were head over heels for him. The whole works: stomach aflutter with butterflies, fireworks exploding behind closed eyelids, a drum instead of a heart.

And then there was a misunderstanding. You got a tip about a small-time fry, barely 6k berries, hardly worth your time. But the asshole was harassing a town and you knew you could take him alone. Zoro was collecting a previous bounty so you didn’t even tell him where you were going.

Turns out the fry wasn’t easy or small. It was huge. It was 16k, not 6k, and he was a tough nut to crack. You could’ve used Zoro’s strength, but you managed. Scraped, bruised but prideful. When you went to collect, intending to share the bounty with him, Zoro was beyond angry. He found out where you’d gone and assumed you’d gone behind his back to collect the bounty and the fame for yourself.

Things escalated. You fell out with each other.

Over a freaking misunderstanding.

You were stubborn as fuck. And you soon found out he was equally stubborn, if not more. So here you were. Still mad at each other over something that had happened more than four years ago.

“We just don’t get along, Chopper. We used to be friends, and then… we stopped.”

Zoro’s glass nearly shatters with the force he uses to set it down on the table. “Bullshit, Backstabber.”

“Stop calling me that, asshole.”

“Guys, guys, you’re at the table…” Franky starts.

“Backstabber? Why? You went behind my back and collected a huge bounty without telling me. That sounds like backstabbing to me!”

“You didn’t even let me explain!” You rise, palms slapping against the wood, causing your water glass to turn and spill.

“What was there to explain? How you got greedy? How you abandoned me without a word? Because that shit stung more than the fucking bounty!”

You gasp and take a step back, grasping the underlying hurt in his words. Abandoned him…? Is that what he thinks happened?

“I… I never meant to abandon you…” Lowering your eyes, you sense the crew shifting uncomfortably under your words.

Zoro is silent.

Just as you raise your head to meet his eyes, a cannon blast shakes the ship, forcing the crew outside to battle an oncoming enemy.

-*-

In the heat of the battle, all animosities are forgotten. You and Zoro move as one, even after four years apart, you can still fight back to back as you used to. It’s both exhilarating and overwhelming.

Zoro still hasn’t calmed the frenzied rhythm of his heart. You had claimed you never meant to abandon him. Were you speaking the truth? Because, as far as he knew, you had chosen to leave him behind, collect the big bounty and disappear from his life without ever looking back.

That had been the biggest disappointment he'd faced in a long while. After four years, he thought you were part of his past. No longer a constant presence in his mind, or worse, in his dreams.

You were gone, and good riddance.

What were the chances of him meeting you again in the Grand Line, anyway?

The Marines attacking the Straw Hats are predictably weak, but there are many of them and Zoro is distracted by the earlier conversation. Apparently, so are you, because there’s no way in hell four-years-ago-you would’ve let that attack slip through your defences, let alone now-you.

Zoro grunts and slices through the three Marines in front of him to reach the bastard pinning you against the Sunny’s wall. His sword blade pressed to your throat, your arm laying limp and bloodied, rendered useless for the rest of the fight.

“I’m gonna count to three and before I fucking reach two, you’d better have let go of her and be out of my fucking sight, or you’ll lose your limbs one by one to my blades. Starting with that hand.” He growls as he notices the Marine pressing his hand against your chest to keep you pinned to the wall.

-*-

Fuck, that was hot.

How can your heart be racing this fast when you’re facing possible death at the hands of a freaking weak Marine? You have no idea how you got into this position. You know how to fight better than any of these army fools!

You were distracted, dumbass.

Yeah, you were distracted. You were thinking about the possibilities and the what-ifs of four years ago, if only you had spoken to Zoro before he thought you abandoned him. And all that thinking got you pinned to the wall with an injured arm and a blade to your throat.

“One…” Zoro starts counting and you hold your breath. You’ve seen him fight, the Marine better run. “Two…”

His voice is eerily calm, but the intensity of his words leaves no room for argument. He’s dangerous, he’s lethal, and he’s not playing games.

Even though the Marine drops you unceremoniously and starts to run, you know he isn't getting far. The manic grin on Zoro’s face just before he slashes the Marine makes the critters in your belly flutter and dance all at once.

Fuck.

Zoro did start with his hand.

-*-

“She’s fine!” Chopper exclaims as he steps out of the infirmary with a wide smile, his hoof clasping your uninjured hand as you join your Nakama by the galley. The crew receives you with cheers and you feel a bit ashamed. You wanted to prove your worth but the battle didn’t go the way you meant it to. Still, none of them make you feel unworthy.

Robin fusses over you, Luffy tries to hug you before Nami stops him with a punch, Usopp is already retelling the tale of the thousand Marines who attacked you and Sanji glides to your side with a refreshment and amiable words, worried, anxious and happy you’re safe.

And that’s where Zoro draws the line. “Can we talk?” His gruff voice rolls over you like a caress, and you bite the inside of your cheek trying to snap out of it.

“Yeah.” You follow him to the crow’s nest unsure of what he wants to say. The entire walk is wrapped in piercing silence, tension hanging like a thick fog. Once you arrive, you’re too wound up to sit, so you start pacing.

“Explain.” He says, apparently too wound up to sit as well.

The fuck?

“Explain what?”

“What you meant at lunch.”

You try to cross your arms over your chest, but the injured limb is still out of action so, instead, you place your good hand on your hip and stamp your foot. “Listen, honey,” you mock, “you better start using your big boy words because I’m not going to play riddles with you and-...”

Your sentence is cut short when he takes two strides forward, forcing you to step back until you collide with the training bars. Zoro’s face is inches from yours and the ticking in his jaw is back.

His eye pins yours, and your legs wobble under the intensity of his stare. “I’ve never met anyone as infuriating as you,” he drawls, slamming his hand against the bars beside your face. “And I can’t stop thinking about you.”

The world spins as you suck in a breath, trying to understand his words. What does he mean?

“I can’t stop thinking about your lips…” His thumb presses against your lower lip, tracing it roughly. “I can’t stop thinking about kissing your neck.” His lips brush against the pulse on your neck, teeth nibbling and pinching. “I can’t stop thinking about you… squirming under me!”

Zoro’s hand gropes the flesh of your hip, his fingers sinking in, pulling a soft moan from your lips. “Tell me to stop.” He whispers, his tongue tracing your earlobe with sinful licks. “Fuck. Just say the words.”

Your head falls back against the bars in abandon as his hand drops from your hips, fingers inching under the waistband of your jeans.

“Don’t stop.” You sigh.

And he doesn’t.

-*-

“I didn’t abandon you.” You’re still in bliss after the moment you just shared. You had thought about this, fantasied, dreamed, imagined… every possible variation of what just happened. But it was still better. “I didn’t know the pirate had a 16k berries bounty. I thought it was 6k. I was going to take care of him, call it a day and meet you to collect the bounty.”

Zoro’s still, his chest still heaving slightly, sweat clinging sinfully to where your mouth had been moments ago.

“But then you left, thinking I betrayed you, without giving me a chance to explain before disappearing from my life.” Your legs are still shaking and aching. Zoro was brutal and intense. And you loved every second of it.

“Well that makes sense…” He says as his expression softens.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Your disbelief makes you face him with a scowl and bared teeth.

“Look at how much fun we could’ve been having for four years instead of hating each other. My bad, I guess!” His cheeky grin only makes you seethe more and you scramble to your feet to collect your clothes and leave him there.

“Unbelievable! You’re an ass, Zoro.” You state as you open the hatch to leave him and his smugness behind.

“Meet me later?”

The blush spreads from your cheeks to your nose and then to your ears as you face him. If looks could kill, he’d be a dead man. You show him the middle finger before closing the hatch. “After dinner in this spot. Be naked and don’t be late. Asshole.”

Roronoa Zoro used to be a friend, then an enemy, then a Nakama… now you can’t deny all the fluttering in your belly when he looks at you. But the fluttering’s fine. You can live with that, it’s actually exhilarating.

It’s the frenzied beating of your heart that you have a problem with. That, and the clenching in your chest when you and Zoro gaze at each other.

That’s what scares you.

-*-

Dinner that evening is the tensest meal you’ve had on the Sunny since joining the crew. On the outside everything looks normal. Luffy is eating from everybody’s plate, Sanji is fawning over Nami, Robin and you, and Usopp is entertaining the table with how he single-handedly defeated one hundred marines in the fight you had earlier.

But every time you glance at Zoro, he’s pinning you under his gaze, an infuriating smirk lifting the corner of his lips as he downs an entire bottle of sake. You try your damn hardest to focus on the food in front of you instead of letting your mind revisit the most mind-shattering and intense moment of your life.

Nami asks if you’re alright and you weakly respond with a yes, saying that you’re just tired from the fight, but you don’t miss her curious expression when she catches the way Zoro is staring at you. Fuck. If he doesn’t stop doing that, he might as well wear a sign on his forehead saying you just had sex.

Bastard.

Zoro leaves first and after helping Sanji clear the plates - even if he vehemently refuses your help - you make your way up to the crow’s nest. You told Zoro to be waiting naked, but you’re actually having second thoughts. Has he forgiven you for what happened four years ago? Have you forgiven him for not even wanting to hear your explanations?

You’re not even sure if you’re friends, acquaintances, enemies or something else entirely. And that needs to be settled.

Taking a deep steadying breath before opening the hatch, you brace yourself for whatever is coming, but you can’t help a small squeak from escaping your lips as you see Zoro waiting for you, bare-chested, cross-legged and leaning up against the bars.

“You’re late, Backstabber.”

“Your pants are still on, Mr. Salty.”

He chuckles and the sound makes your heart skip a beat weirdly. Should you talk to Chopper about this? It seems like something you should worry about.

Zoro moves away from the bars and takes a step your way, that smug grin tilting his lips in an endearing way. “You want them off that bad?”

You take another step back, though your legs feel like jelly. “Smug asshole.”

He doesn’t answer you with a cheeky reply and his lips turn into a thin line again. That same closed-off expression he had when you first joined and now it seems like the step back you took was a step back in… whatever this is.

“Look…” He says your name while scratching the back of his head. “I’m sorry. About the way things ended between us all that time ago. It seems silly to still be upset about it, especially now that you’ve explained yourself.”

You nod, agreeing and there’s a lightness to your chest that wasn’t there before. A sort of closure to that chapter of your lives, something you’ve carried with you even if you were unaware of it.

“Also,” he continues as he takes another step forward. This time you don’t back away. “About what I said the other day - about us not being Nakama - I didn’t mean it that way.” He sighs and reaches for your wrist, his touch surprisingly gentle. “I was just angry.”

“Are you still angry?” You ask, your breath catching slightly in your throat.

Zoro’s finger brushes the inside of your wrist, absentmindedly. “I don’t even know.” He lets out a sigh that resembles a grunt and tugs at your wrist, pulling you to him. “But I know I can’t go another day without you, let alone four years.”

Your heart skips another beat as his words sink in, and this time it continues to beat in this weird staccato rhythm. “Then don’t…” You finally murmur, pressing yourself against him, feeling the heat of his skin against your fingers.

He grins again, that shit-eating grin he used to give you back when things were still fine. “Good.” He drawls out as he pinches your chin and crashes his lips against yours in a desperate claim. His touch electrifies you and tingles in places it shouldn’t, lighting you up from within and making you feel more alive than ever.

-*-

Time passes and something shifts. The crew notices it since you bicker less. You’re pretty sure Nami and Robin know what is going on between the both of you, though they don’t say anything. But it should be a dead giveaway since you’re ‘training’ together now instead of sticking to your separate training schedule.

You still argue on a daily basis, though now there’s an underlying understanding that wasn’t there before. You’re not arguing out of past sorrows, hurt, or unresolved conflict. You’re arguing because it’s just your nature. And you notice that there’s something deeper in your connection. Those skipped beats of your heart, that fluttering in your belly… Those are all part of something far more intense that you don’t want to name yet. But you realise that there’s no rush in naming whatever you have. You have time.

Because Zoro might still call you ‘Backstabber’ with an annoyingly smug smirk, and you might call him ‘Mr. Salty’ with equal fervour now and again, but at the end of the day, you’re both exactly where you want to be: right beside each other.

Tag list: @rosidaze @beachaddict48 @armiliadawn @jintaka-hane @sprinkklz @baby5555 @hopelesslover06 @mars-mizuko @sleepykittycx @nerium-lil @eustasscapitankid @ren-ni @jqperi

#one piece #one piece x reader #x reader #op #roronoa zoro x reader #zoro roronoa x reader #roronoa zoro #reader insert #reader x zoro #you x zoro #zoro x you #birthday event

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macbethsymphony · 6 months ago

Text

The Swordsman and the Blacksmith | Chapter 19

Roronoa Zoro x Reader

Chapter wc: 4.8k

Chapter rating: SFW

Content/Warnings: NSFW, 18+, Fem!Reader, Enemies to lovers, SLOW slow burn, Eventual smut

Summary: Your skills as a blacksmith have made you desirable to both the government and pirates. You know you have to leave this island if you want to escape your fate, but that doesn't make the choice of leaving any easier. Roronoa Zoro is intrigued by your skills as a blacksmith. Your work is like nothing he's ever seen before. Unfortunately, you're hot-headed and he's rude and you both definitely hate each other.

Chapters [1][2][3][4][5][6][7][8][9][10][11][12][13][14][15][16][17][18]

Masterlist

Slowly crossposting from AO3 Feel like binging the rest of it? it's all there!

Chapter 19: A Different Approach

The next morning was not kind to you. As the first rays of sunlight filtered through the windows of the crow's nest, you stirred from your restless sleep, feeling the weight of a pounding headache and the persistent haze of alcohol-induced drowsiness.

You groaned in protest at the sun, trying to block out the light in your eyes with the improvised pillow you’d made with training mats. The events of the previous night slowly flooded back into your consciousness, a wave of fragmented memories crashing against the shores of your mind. Amidst the fog, the taste of the swordsman's lips lingered on your own, salt and whiskey, a sweet reminder of the intimacy shared under the moonlight. Your cheeks heated intensely.

Oh gods, you needed to stop drinking so much.

With a feeble attempt to ease the throbbing in your skull, you pushed yourself in a sitting position, the movement sending a surge of dizziness washing over you. It took a moment for your surroundings to come back into focus, the familiar sight of the makeshift gym greeting you in quiet serenity.

You considered getting up for a split second but decided against so, instead leaning back on the wall with a heavy sigh. You closed your eyes, the tips of your fingers going to your outer thigh, lazily recreating the exploration of the swordsman’s hands in a daze. Your heart skipped a beat, a shiver passed your shoulders, you let the rear of your head painfully hit the wood behind you.

Fuck.

You were down bad.

The trapdoor grated open. You didn’t move. You heard the familiar pace of Zoro’s steps against the floor. From what you could make, he stopped not too far from you.

An amused snort escaped him.

Your eyes creaked open slightly, looking up at him. Goodness, he was stunning. The morning’s gentle rays caressed his features, casting them in a soft, ethereal glow. The rare curve of his lips into a smile was mesmerizing, drawing you in like a moth to a flame. Even the metal of his earrings appeared to dance in the warmth of the light, their delicate glint adding to his undeniable allure.

“Still alive?” he asked, crouching down so your eyes were at a similar level.

“I think I might be dying, actually,” you answered, voice rough and catching against the dryness of your throat.

He chuckled at your overdramatic statement. “You do look like shit,” he commented looking you over none too subtly.

You scoffed in mock indignation. “I don’t want to hear that from someone who doesn’t even shower once a week," you retorted gesturing to him with a lazy movement of your head.

He shrugged nonchalantly, your jab not bothering him in the slightest.

You met his gaze in a quiet exchange, searching for any hint of anger or regret. Yet, all you found was his usual stoic demeanor reflected back at you, his expression betraying nothing. Your eyes traveled against his face, settling on his lips. Memories flooded your mind, his grasp in your hair, his smirk against your lips as you complied with his every demand. And then, as if sensing your thoughts, a knowing grin spread across his features, his eye twinkling with what you could only decipher as satisfaction.

Embarrassment overcame you at the realization that he could read you like an open book. You quickly averted your gaze, hoping to hide the crimson on your cheeks that threatened to betray your inner turmoil.

“Anyway,” you squeaked. “You got any water?”

The swordsman’s grin widened at your deflection, but he played along nonetheless. He extracted a flask from under his overcoat. You snagged it with unsteady hands, unscrewing the cap and taking a sip. Almost immediately, you halted on the contents, the harsh burn of alcohol catching you off guard.

"Sake?!" you exclaimed incredulously, eyes meeting his again in shock, wincing as you tried not to choke. "The sun's barely up.”

Zoro chuckled at your reaction, his smile unwavering as he watched your struggle. "Morning’s as good a time as any for a drink," he remarked casually, his tone betraying no hint of remorse.

“Fuck swordsman, you’ve got a problem,” You managed to croak in-between soft coughs, handing him back the flask none too gently.

His fingers lingered against yours as he took it back, a subtle touch that sent heat to your core. His gaze held yours for a moment longer, a silent exchange passing between you before he stood up.

"Zoro," you said, his name feeling unfamiliar and weighty on your lips.

He glanced down at you, a hint of curiosity glinting in his eye. "What is it?" he asked after your silence prolonged.

You hesitated, grappling for the right words amidst the tumult within yourself. "About last night..." you began, trailing off as you struggled to articulate your thoughts.

A smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. "What about last night?" he inquired, his features dripping with self-satisfaction.

Frustration simmered within you, the prickling sensation of annoyance bubbling beneath the surface. "You know what I mean, swordsman," you replied with exasperation.

He tilted his head slightly, a playful glint dancing in his eye. "Do I?" he teased.

A impatient sigh escaped you, the tension mounting with each passing moment. Rising to meet his stance, you looked at him with defiance. "Cut the crap, you know exactly what I'm talking about," you insisted, your tone firm.

He laughed, the sound echoing in the quiet space between you. In the face of his entertainment, you hesitated, uncertainty creeping into your expression as his chuckles subsided.

Your gaze fell to the floor. Without the brazenness that came with intoxication, embarrassment flooded your senses. "You know what?" you said in a small, panicked squeak. "Forget it."

He sighed.

“Oi,” he called out to you.

When you didn’t move your head, he crouched back down, looking up to meet your eyes. As his gaze locked with yours, the weight of his stare made your heart flutter, your knees weaken. Your name crossed his lips in a soft whisper, the sound foreign and demanding of attention. "I don't do things I'll regret," he stated simply before rising to his feet and turning to the trapdoor.

You stood in disbelief for a moment, processing his words. All of a sudden, you scrambled, picking up the cursed dagger from the floor in a hurry as you snapped back to reality.

“Hey,” you shouted after him. “Wait, where are you going?” You asked as you followed him down the ladder. “You can’t just say that and leave.”

“Training,” He answered simply from below, entirely ignoring the latter part of your comment.

As your feet hit the wooden deck, you watched him walk away in stunned wordlessness. The cool morning air did little to alleviate the heat coloring your cheeks. Gazing out to the horizon, you squinted against the glare of the rising sun. The golden sliver took you by surprise. It was far earlier than you’d expected. The ship lay silent and deserted, a stark contrast to the bustling activity it would soon host. Most of the crew, you assumed, still slumbered in the embrace of their beds.

A parched sensation clawed at your throat, urging you in search of relief. Water. You needed water urgently. With a resolute stride, you crossed the length of the Sunny, headed for the galley, the determination evident in each purposeful step.

You hadn't anticipated anyone else being awake at this early hour, perhaps aside from Sanji. However, you were taken aback to find both Nami and Robin already up and about. The two women were seated at the table, engrossed in a hushed exchange. Nami meticulously pored over intricate navigation charts, while Robin delved into the pages of a book.

A delightful aroma wafted through the air, emanating from the oven where something delicious was clearly baking. Its sweet scent tantalized your senses, yet the chef was nowhere in sight.

Nami quirked an eyebrow in amusement as she watched you make a beeline for the sink, the sound of running water punctuating the quiet atmosphere. "Good morning to you too," she teased, her tone laced with playful sarcasm.

You offered a sheepish smile in response, your lips curling upwards despite the persistent ache in your head. "Morning," you managed to murmur, your voice rough as you filled a glass with cool water.

Meanwhile, Robin's words cut through the tranquility of the moment, catching you off guard as you took a gulp from the glass. "You didn’t sleep in our room yesterday," she observed casually, her gaze still fixed on the book she held in her hands.

The unexpected remark hit you like a sudden gust of wind, causing you to choke on your drink. Water menaced painfully to flood your lungs, and the implications in the tone of the archeologist's statement sent a jolt of embarrassment coursing through you, your mind scrambling to come up with a suitable response.

Struggling to regain your composure, you hastily wiped your mouth with the back of your hand, attempting to conceal the nervousness that threatened to sell you out. "I, uh, ended up crashing in the crow's nest last night," you stammered, your voice quivering slightly as you sought to sound nonchalant.

Nami's eyebrows shot up even higher than before, her expression betraying the flow of her thoughts. "In the crow's nest, huh?" she echoed, a mischievous twinkle dancing in her eyes. "Sounds cozy."

Heat flooded your cheeks as you fumbled for a response, acutely aware of the implications in her tone. Your brain couldn’t help but bring up the sensation of his nails digging into soft flesh, of his grip tightening in your hair. A shiver went down your spine. “Just passed out there,” you answered, your voice squeaky.

A hand popped out of the table in front of the navigator. Nami tsked in annoyance, digging out Berry from her back pocket and placing a handful of notes in the waiting palm.

“Thank you,” Robin said with satisfaction, the fingers counting casually the amount while her eyes were still glued to her book. She suddenly smiled, folding the stack of notes and pocketing them. “In any case, we’re glad to see you’re alright. For a moment last night, we were worried you’d taken an unexpected dip overboard.”

You watched the exchange in disbelief, blood draining from your face. “What was that?” You couldn’t help but ask, ignoring the archeologist’s comment entirely. “What did you guys bet on?”

Nami’s smirk widened. “Wouldn’t you like to know,” she mused with glee. “Don’t worry, it was just a friendly wager.”

"It's not what you think," you protested, your words tumbling out in a hurried jumble. "We were just... talking."

"We?" Nami questioned with a knowing arch of her eyebrow.

Robin's gaze met yours, closing her book with a soft thud. "Talking... Is that what kids are calling it these days?" she teased, a playful glint dancing in her eyes.

As if on cue, Sanji kicked the door open, Zoro not too far behind, their arrival far from subtle. Crates in hand, they burst in with the energy of a brewing storm.

"Hurry up," Sanji barked at the swordsman, impatience evident in his tone. "These are just the start."

Zoro grunted in annoyance, dropping the crates onto the floor without much care. "Why don’t you do your own heavy lifting, you shitty cook," he shot back, his voice tinged with irritation, following him nonetheless.

Sanji's eyebrow twitched, his grip on his cigarette tightening as he took a long drag. "What did you say, moss head?"

Your cheeks flushed under the assessing gazes of Nami and Robin, feeling a wave of embarrassment wash over you.

Zoro abruptly halted in his tracks, the cook forgotten as he looked at you. His eye narrowed as he surveyed the scene before him. "What's going on?" he demanded, his steely gaze darting between you and the two women.

“Nothing,” you replied quickly, looking down and getting lost in the suddenly interesting glass in your hands.

Nami’s smirk turned into a grin, her eyes sparkling with something that was almost evil as she leaned back into her chair. “Oh, we were just discussing last night’s sleeping arrangements,” she announced, her tone teasing.

"You see, our dear blacksmith never made it back to our room. Nami and I were quite worried," Robin added, her gaze briefly flickering towards you before settling on the swordsman with a soft smile. "You wouldn’t know anything about that, would you, Zoro?"

Zoro's expression remained unreadable as he turned his attention to you, his stare piercing and calculating. He leaned against the doorframe, his lip twitched for a fraction of a second, reveling in the chaos in your eyes. "Whatever the witch said," he replied mysteriously, lazily gesturing towards you with a tilt of his head.

You scowled at the nickname, a flicker of irritation crossing your features.

Nami scoffed, her annoyance evidently feigned. "Well, isn’t that convenient?"

You cleared your throat, your hand absentmindedly going to the cursed knife at your waist. “Yes, incredibly convenient.” You shot Zoro a frustrated glare. “In any case, I’ve got work to do.” You stated resolutely, making your way back towards the door.

Robin called your name, stopping you in your tracks. “You left the research out on the table outside last night. I put it in your forge for you, if you ever wondered where it went.”

You flashed her a grateful smile and a small thank you before strolling past the swordsman. He didn’t move out of the way, forcing you to brush against him. The warmth of his body seeped through the fabric of your clothes, sending a subtle jolt of electricity through you. Zoro's gaze flickered with an unreadable intensity, a hint of amusement at your almost unobservable shiver as he tracked your movements.

Suppressing the unexpected flutter in your chest, you flipped him off before continuing on your way.

He snorted at your defiance, his eye shamelessly tracing the contours of your figure, halting at the hem of your skirt. His fingers twitched imperceptibly.

Sanji kicked Zoro in the shin, taking back his attention.

"What'd you do that for?" Zoro screeched.

"(Y/n)'s a lady you muscle-headed moron," the cook shouted as he made his way out of the galley with the swordsman in tow.

The heat of your forge was comforting, the familiar act of wrapping your hair in linen cloth allowing you to clear your mind.

You sat down as you waited for the fires to attain the necessary temperature for the task you wanted to attempt. Your fingers traced the uneven edge of the cursed dagger, letting your haki flow to touch it, understand how it was created.

The excruciating pain enveloped your senses like a suffocating shroud. Grappling with the relentless surge of agony coursing through your veins, you gritted your teeth and summoned every ounce of your willpower, determined not to back away. Each pulsating wave of sensation threatened to overwhelm you, but you stood firm, unyielding in your resolve.

As you delved deeper into the essence of the cursed steel, you probed the twisted techniques that had been utilized to imbue it with haki, tracing the dark tendrils of its creation back to their source. The images that flickered behind your closed eyes were a haunting reminder of the suffering endured, the echoes of distress etched into the very fabric of the blade's existence as life force was taken forcefully.

Hazy visions of torment danced before you, each blurry snapshot a testament to the cruelty that had been employed in making the dagger. You felt the agony, heard the anguish, the cries of souls torn from their mortal shells. It was as if the blade itself bore witness to the violent depths of human depravity, a silent beholder to the atrocities committed in the name of science.

Never before had you encountered such haki-infused steel, a material that carried the imprint of darkness in its very essence. It was a rare sight, one that sent an unwelcome surge of dread in your mind, for you recognized its origins all too well. Only in the creations forged by your own hands had you glimpsed such power and pain. You couldn’t help but feel a certain amount of responsibility for its existence.

The task ahead of you was daunting, for you knew all too well the challenges that lay in dismantling a black blade. More often than not, it was an impossible feat, the sentience that came with stolen life force resisting all attempts to break its hold. Hells, you had tried to destroy Yokubari more times than you could count. But as you gazed down at the steel along the tips of your fingers, you harbored a steadfast determination—a refusal to allow such a perversion to persist in this world.

You let your haki recede, the fires crackling and hissing as they cast flickering shadows across the walls. The beads of sweat that were starting to dot your brow gave you the indication that the temperature you needed was almost there.

As you approached the roaring furnace, the heat radiating from the inferno grazed at your skin, searing and intense, but you paid it no mind, your focus consumed by the task at hand. Your eyes lost themselves in the flames. You deposited the dagger on the bed of coal daring the fire to devour it. The flames eagerly licked at the black surface as if hungry for the power that pulsed within. The steel hissed and sputtered, the sound like a chorus of angry spirits protesting their fate, but still, you pressed on, pumping the bellows with practiced ease.

As the dagger sank deeper into the molten heart of the forge, the fires roared to life with renewed intensity, casting dancing sharpening shadows. The air grew thick with the scent of burning metal. You reached in with your haki, prying at the soul within in hope to release it.

It fought with the vigor of a dying animal. You tried kindness, tried forcefulness, nothing worked. The steel stood still, edge looking back at you in defiance. You took it out of the orange coals, tossing it on your anvil in anger.

You swore in fury, gritting your teeth as you sat back in your chair, eyeing the insolent blade from afar. Frustration coursed through your veins at your inadequacy, at your weakness. The flames continued to rage around you only adding to the exertion you felt.

You spotted green hair in the periphery of your vision. You groaned, in no mood to entertain anyone’s antics.

Zoro's figure loomed in the doorway of your forge for what felt like an eternity. His presence cast a long shadow across the floor as he leaned casually against the frame. His gaze was inscrutable as he watched you, the faintest hint of curiosity gleaming in his eye.

"What's got you all worked up?" he asked, his voice gravelly.

You shot him a glare, your frustration overflowing. "This damn dagger," you muttered, gesturing towards the cursed blade with a displeased flick of your wrist. "It won't yield. I've tried everything, but it's like it's... alive."

Zoro's expression remained impassive as he stepped further into the forge, his eye narrowing slightly as he studied the dagger. "Alive, huh?" he echoed, his tone thoughtful.

You nodded, tossing your head back and closing your lids. You heard the faint rustle of fabric as he moved. “Don’t touch it,” you warned. “I just took it out of the fires.”

His gaze flickered towards you, his fingers stopping mid motion at your warning. He took a few steps back from the uncomfortable heat of the fires, twirling Uragiri in his hand mindlessly as he deliberated over something. With a small smile he threw the sword to you.

"Catch," he said, his voice laced with a hint of amusement.

Your eyes snapped open at his words, you struggled to react in time, momentarily caught off guard by his unexpected action, but managed to snatch the blade in the air just before it could slip out of your reach, securing it firmly in your grasp.

All thoughts of the dagger vacated your mind. Your brow furrowed in disbelief as you unsheathed the sword and inspected the steel. "Have you already mastered it?" you inquired incredulously, taken aback by the possibility that he could have learned it so swiftly.

"No," he replied bluntly, his tone leaving no room for ambiguity.

Your frown deepened in confusion. "Then why?" you pressed, genuinely puzzled by his intentions.

"You're teaching me," he stated matter-of-factly, his words hanging in the air with a weight that belied their simplicity.

You blinked. “I’m teaching you?” you repeated, momentarily stunned by his response. Teaching him? The notion seemed absurd, considering the formidability of his skills as a swordsman. “You mean like what I did in the research facility?” you asked.

His confirming grunt sent a shiver down your spine.

You ignored the sensation, looking at the sword as you pondered the idea over. "No," you decided firmly, refusing to entertain it any longer than necessary.

"Huh?" Zoro's brows furrowed in confusion, his tone laced with a hint of frustration. "Why not?" he pressed, his gaze searching yours for an explanation.

You squinted, his attitude rubbing on you. "I’m not teaching you how to reverberate haki. It's too dangerous," you sneered down at him from your low vantage point, white scabbard clutched tightly in your hands. "We're on a ship," you added, as though the mere mention of your surroundings underscored the inherent risk of what he was proposing. “With people.”

He scoffed, making his way to you. “It’ll be fine,” he assured you, moving towards your seated form, his boots stopping close to yours.

You looked up at him, resolute stare meeting his, your back digging firmly in the back of your chair. You couldn't help but roll your eyes at his cocky reassurance, his arrogance only serving to fuel your irritation. "Fine?" you echoed incredulously, your tone dripping with sarcasm. "Oh, well, if you say it'll be fine, then I guess we have nothing to worry about."

Zoro's lips quirked into a smug smirk at your biting retort, his gaze challenging you to match his confidence. "Exactly," he replied, his voice low and gruff as he leaned in closer. His fingers grazed the wooden top of the workbench behind you, the warmth of his breath touched your heated cheek.

You fought to suppress the flutter in your chest at his proximity, unwilling to let him see how easily he could unsettle you. "Well, forgive me if I don't share your blind optimism," you shot back, your words laced with thinly veiled annoyance.

He chuckled softly at your barbed response, the sound sending a shiver down your spine. "Then, are you underestimating me, witch?” he teased, his tone playful as he reached out to lightly brush his fingers against the ashes on your cheek.

For a sliver of a moment, you almost melted into his touch but the surge of anger that rose inside you at his audacity took over. "Don't do that," you snapped, swatting his hand away with more force than strictly necessary.

The swordsman’s smirk widened at your reaction, his eyes sparkling with amusement as he stepped back, hands raised in mock surrender.

You gritted your teeth in frustration, struggling to maintain your composure. "I'm serious," you warned, your voice edged with firmness. "This is a bad idea, and I won't be held responsible if something goes wrong."

His gaze locked with yours. His fingers brushed yours along the lacquered wood of the scabbard.

Your resolve wavered. “Fine,” you hissed. “Just let me change first.”

You should have fucking stuck to your instincts. You swore under your breath as you pried Uragiri out of the moron’s hands.

“Kind and reassuring, you idiot,” you yelled at the man before you. “Not fucking brute force.”

Zoro's scowl deepened, his brows furrowing in irritation at your outburst. "What's your problem? I almost had it,” he shouted, his voice tinged with annoyance.

"My problem?" you shot back incredulously, frustration welling up to the surface. "You're reckless, impulsive, and completely oblivious to the consequences of your actions. You can’t control your haki properly and you weren’t even close to getting it."

Zoro bristled at your words, his jaw clenched with vexation. "You're a shit teacher," he retorted defensively. "If you'd stop yelling at me for two seconds, maybe I could actually make some progress."

You scoffed, shaking your head in disbelief. "Progress?" you echoed, cynicism coloring your tone. "You call that progress? Nearly slicing the ship in two because you're too stubborn to listen to reason?"

Zoro's expression hardened slightly at the mention of his previous blunder, a flicker of displeasure crossing his features. "I can handle it," he insisted obstinately, though the strain in his voice betrayed a crack in his bravado.

You sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose in frustration. "That's not the point," you replied wearily, your anger giving way to exhaustion. "The point is that you need to learn control. You can't just charge into every situation without thinking things through."

“Are you giving me a lecture on impulsivity?” He snorted. “That’s rich.”

You winced at the truth of his words. “Apparently I fucking have to” you gritted through clenched teeth.

“Fine,” he relented stiffly. “Show me again.”

You took in a deep breath trying to rein in your own irritation. This was going nowhere. “Let’s try something different,” you sighed. “Since my way is clearly not working, show me how your haki works.”

Zoro’s scowl softened as he considered your suggestion. “My haki?” He mused. “I can do that,” he said smugly.

You set Uragiri to the side, taking a seat on the wood of the deck. You watched as he did the same not too far from you. Watched as he casually reached within, looking for the well of his willpower.

With practiced ease, haki flowed along his skin, coating the tips of his fingers, his hand, his arm.

Your breath caught as the air buzzed with electricity. It was stunning, breathtaking. The mastery, the dominance. It was entirely different than yours. You didn’t understand how he did it.

Your fingers twitched, tentatively moving to touch his.

The raw power was intoxicating, sharp and ready to kill.

His gaze locked onto yours with an intensity that seemed to pierce through your very soul. You couldn't decipher the thoughts swirling behind that unwavering stare, but the mischievous glint that danced in his eye hinted at a deeper comprehension than he let on. With a subtle smirk, he delved further into his reserves, channeling his haki with a newfound fervor that left you in awe.

"Can't control my haki?" he teased, referring to your earlier critique.

"You're still stuck on that? Stop showing off," you chided, your tongue clicking in disapproval. "Uragiri needs kindness and reassurance, not this shit."

"Then show me kind and reassuring," he challenged, his gaze unwavering as he met your eyes with steely determination.

"I've never quite grasped armament haki, so I’m not sure how one would go about it with that technique," you admitted with a hint of vulnerability. "My willpower isn't rooted in a desire to fight, but to create," you explained, reaching instinctively into the depths of yourself. “You can’t achieve what I did in the research lab by simply coating a sword. You need to understand it, find the haki woven in the layers steel.”

Your hand went to Uragiri at your side, bringing it in between you and the swordsman. “It’s important to observe how a blade was made, when you’re going at it the way I am,” you continued calmly, extending your haki along the swirls of the steel. “Observe which areas of the steel bends, which holds firm. How strong the core stands. It’s all part of a sword’s soul.”

His expression softened, mirroring your sincerity as he watched the black spirals emanate from your palm, the movements of your fingers as they grazed the sharpness of the edge with genuine curiosity. Tentatively, he allowed his haki to recede, attempting to replicate your technique with careful precision.

A smile tugged at the corners of your lips as you observed his earnest efforts, the intensity of his focus drawing you in. In that moment, he seemed almost youthful, his features tempered by the sheer concentration etched upon his face.

“You don’t have to go about it in the same way I do,” you said after watching him struggle for a while. “I’m certain you can achieve a similar effect with your own technique. There’s always more than one solution to every challenge.”

You suddenly shot up to your feet, steps urgently taking you back towards your forge. You had an idea. A different way you could approach the dagger. “Keep going at it, you’ll figure it out.” You shouted back at him.

← Previous chapter | Next chapter →

Masterlist

#the swordsman and the blacksmith #roronoa zoro #roronoa zoro x reader #roronoa zoro x you #roronoa zoro x y/n #one piece x reader #zoro x reader #charlou writes

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sadsimp · 8 months ago

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Hey! Hope you're having an awesome day/night!

I wanted to ask, that is, if your ask box is open, and if you wish to; could you list your headcanons/ideas of what Geo would be like as a romantic partner? Like love languages, how you get with him, etc. (or more if you want idc I just want Geo content...and how Sol and Crowe would deal with it teehee).

Thanks in advance Anon! Wishing you good health and a marvellous week! :]

Geo hcs~!

Not edited/proofread.

No warnings?? Just pure fluff, and sorry I didn’t include smut :)

Thank you so much for the request! :D And thank you 🥺 have a good week as well~!

I’m still on the fence if requests are closed or not, since I get writers block easily, but I’ll try my best if you do request :)

With that, enjoy!!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I feel like it would take a while before Geo even acknowledges that he might like you.

He’d be denying that you’re even friends for the longest time and then it just hits up like a bus. If he’s doing something like his archery class when it hits him, he just pauses and stares off into the distance. His eyes widen ever so slight, you wouldn’t really notice unless you were right up in his face.

I’m sorry you have to confess 😭 His reaction depends on how you confess/ask him out.

If you are in a public space- He’s eyes would go wide most likely and glance around at everyone anxiously. If he sees people noticing you two, he’ll probably reject you💀😭

If you accept and apologize, he’d find you later in the hall and ask to talk to you in private. He’d explain why he rejected you, which he was overwhelmed and would’ve much rather preferred a clear and empty space.

He’d say you can restart with his face not as harsh looking. He’s essentially saying to ask again in a much better space.

Of course, you ask again and then he actually gives the answer he would’ve liked to say before.

If you do it in a quieter, more private setting- He’s slightly suspicious on why you’re asking to talk to him in private.

He’s very pleased that you’ve asked him without the staring eyes of others once he hears your confession.

He just..stares at you for a few moments before nodding slowly.

Either way, congratulations! 🎉🎊🍾 You’ve got him!!

The relationship will go slow for sure. He’s very cautious when showing his affections and doesn’t want to overstep any boundaries you may have.

Which is why he’ll want to put it all on the table: both of your guy’s boundaries, wants, etc.

He’d lock pinkies with you when you walk 🥺

I don’t think he’s much for cuddling. At first ;)

If he’s not feeling up for full on cuddles, he’ll just hold your hand or lay an arm over you while still keeping some space.

I feel like once he’s in the mood to cuddle, he’s on top of you with a death grip. He will definitely not let you go.

He’s big on Acts of Service. If he sees your apartment slightly messy, like unclean dishes, he’ll do them for you.

He probably won’t do much else like organizing because he understands everyone has a system and doesn’t want you to get upset. So dishes, dusting, and sweeping/vacuuming/mopping is what he’ll do :)

I feel like he would love to do dishes with you too. Put on some music in the background and have deep conversations and he’s night is great.

How will Crowe react???

He’s shocked for one.

Like?? When did this happen? How? Why?

He’s not going to be a jerk about, and he’s happy for you. He can see that Geo is treating you well and you seem so happy, how could he not be happy for you?

He’s slightly jealous though, but he gets over it :)

How will Sol react???

He’s so mad. He’s immediately plotting Geo’s death I’m sorry 😭

He can see how happy you are, but he only wants him to make you happy. No one else.

If you two are doing your project and Geo comes to pick you up? Sol glares at him and doesn’t even attempt to be polite. He definitely digs his nails into his hand, and the same thing happens just like in Episode Two

His eyes soften when you tell him goodbye, but the second you interlock yours and Geo’s pinkies, he’s glaring at him and sticks his tongue out.

I suggest making sure he isn’t following you and lock your doors and windows :)

~~~~~~~

I’m sorry this took so long 😭 I’m also sorry this is all I got :,)

#the kid at the back #tkatb vn #subaru geo oogami #sol brugmansia #the kid at the back vn #geo x reader

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crazyfanoffandom · 23 days ago

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How things developed between Freya and Lucanis…

This is just the storyline I’ve drafted briefly in my head. Combining that slow but also adding in stuff…mostly off screen content.

For many Rooks, they saw Lucanis and fell for him right away. Not Freya (I really need a new name). Her own journey with the crows and training tainted her view a little. She is aware of the stakes of a job. She is aware that she could die if she doesn’t perform as they need her to. And the killing the elvhen dweebs and stopping Solas’ circus is the same. It’s an ever present mindset that doesn’t go away. Getting Lucanis out of prison was just part of the job. Just another heist. Though this entire quest line has been different than norm. She goes after people to destroy them. But she’s being used to stop destruction.

Some jobs require her to flirt her way to the kill. So she knows how. Rarely has she flirted because she wanted to. It was something out of her control. She did what she has to do to get the job done. Flirting with Lucanis was helping her find a little independence and differentiating thinking from the crow ways. It surprises her evermore when he responded to it. But she figured he saw things the same as she did. Goodness, it didn’t even bother her when he flirted with Neve in front of her. They were all colleagues getting along. None of their flirting (hers towards Lucanis included) meant a lot.

But during a night discussion and heart to heart with him, she realized that it wasn’t harmless anymore. At least for her. She liked him (though she never downright thought “oh wow I like him.”). And as time went on, those feelings flourished and blossomed. And then he almost kissed her. She didn’t second guess why he stopped. She was aware of his situation. She could only guess how that impacted that moment, but she concluded it the source. A part of her thought that an accident. But it seemed unlikely because who accidentally leans in intending to do that?

What truly got her was the flirting. His flirting towards Neve didn’t relent. She pretended not to notice. She continued teasing them as she had before. But her own heart shattered. And confusion rippled. But this is when she drew the conclusion that, despite logic, maybe these feelings weren’t replicated. And this is when she’s thankful for poker face training when she was training with the crows!

She couldn’t remember the kind of coffee he liked, so she went to ask him which beans to buy. And when he tried to tag on to their conversation, “If I could…I want…” She drew a greater confusion. Even more when she heard from a distance a conversation between Neve and Lucanis at the lighthouse. She believed it about that moment where he nearly kissed her. But after that, neither flirted. Boundaries had been drawn out of earshot. Neve would tell her at a later date about this. And when all this is over and she reflects, Freya would become grateful her friend was observant and able to take action when neither Freya or Lucanis know how to handle this.

There would be so many unknown stolen moments during this time. Neither realized what they were. They were growing closer and closer and closer. They weren’t touchy feely. There was no “touching his arm” or “lean in so close you can their breath moments” but there would be little things in the in between. Talking over coffee. Bonding over crow training memories. Making fun of Viago (he heard about one incident, and Freya made sure not to consume anything he gave her for weeks afterwards).

But the conversation eventually strayed towards that almost kiss during a venture (Lucanis initiated). And Lucanis admits he’s been thinking about it for sometime. Now he thinks he knows what he wishes to say, but at the light house. And that leads to a night long private conversation. They talk about everything and anything over coffee (well tea for Freya, much to Lucanis’ disgust). Long after others have gone to sleep, the flirty charm has been turned back on. Both admit they don’t know what this is…but it’s something they want to pursue. So they’re going to go forward and see where it takes them.

No kiss happens until after he makes her the dessert that pairs well with tea. They’re running from antaam they’d been tracking (and of whom caught on and gave chase). They don’t want to get caught. They’re hiding in a squishy place. They started flirting and sassing…and then they lean in. There’s no almost kiss this time. It’s the kiss. They linger for a few seconds and pull away. Freya is about to comment on what she thinks and suddenly, they hear one antaam alerting the others to their location and they run.

That’s how I think it may happen. But these are just thoughts.

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bigcats-birds-and-books · 5 months ago

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Books of 2024: July Wrap-Up.

This month, I picked my knitting back up with a vengeance, started a Three Sentences Writing Challenge, AND participated in several work-adjacent Social Events (who am I, even), On Top Of accidentally nerfing myself with several brick-like books, so! This little stack isn't half bad. Photos and/or reviews linked below:

ORDINARY MONSTERS - ★★ This was a miss for me, y'all, AND it was a brick, so it took a hot minute to read. I wanted it to be better than it was, but it rambled and wandered Too Much (which, coming from me, you KNOW is bad). Salty also-rambly 1.5k review linked.

IF FOUND, RETURN TO HELL - ★★★½ Way cuter than I was expecting!! I had a good time with the second person. Hugely relatable (which. wild. all things considered.).

THE HAUNTING OF HILL HOUSE - ★★★½ Funnier than anticipated, and very readable for something out of the '50s! I see why it's a cornerstone of the (sub)genre. Glad I have a copy on hand now.

THE ACTOR AND THE TARGET - ★★★★★ This Rewired My Brain. It took me three (3) weeks to get through. It was so good. If you're a writer, definitely check this out, 10/10 recommend.

WHEN AMONG CROWS - ★★★½ I checked this out from the library because hardback novellas are Expensive if you're not sure you vibe with the author's style, but I had a good time! Witcher fans should descend on this, I think.

ALWAYS COMING HOME - 76*/618 pages read; will report back later. I asked the People about this one, and the People have Spoken (read: this won my What Do I Read Next Poll), but I may or may not have miscalcuated how many brain cells I have available lately between work and writing, so I may or may not be cutting this with library books. I'll finish it. Eventually. (*asterisk because she keeps referencing Other Pages In Line, and every time she does I jump ahead to read those pages instead and then come back to where I was. I'm dual wielding bookmarks through this tome, it's an Experience™ so far!)

Under the Cut: A Note About ~*★Stars★*~

Historically, I have been Very Bad™ about assigning things Star Ratings, because it's so Vibes Heavy for me and therefore Contingent Upon my Whims. I am refining this as I figure out my wrap up posts (epiphany of this month: I don't like that stars are Odd, because that makes three the midpoint and things are rarely so truly mid for me)(I have hacked my way around this with a ½). Here is, generally, how I conceptualize stars:

★ - This was Bad. I would actively recommend that you do NOT read this one, no redeeming qualities whatsoever, not worth the slog. Save Yourself, It's Too Late For Me. Book goes in the garbage (donate bin).

★★ - This was Not Good. I would not recommend it, but it wasn't a total waste or wash--something in here held my interest/kept my attention/sparked some joy. I will not be rereading this ever. Save Yourself (Or Join Me In Suffering, That Seems Like A Cool Bonding Activity).

★★★ - This was Good/Fine/Okay/Meh. I don't care about this enough to recommend it one way or another. Perfectly serviceable book, held my interest, I probably enjoyed myself (or at least didn't actively loathe the reading). I don't have especially strong feelings. You probably don't need to save yourself from this one--if it sounds like your jam, give it a shot! Just didn't resonate with me particularly powerfully. I probably won't reread this unless I'm after something in particular.

★★★½ - I liked this! I'll probably recommend it if I know it matches someone's vibes or specific requests, but I didn't commit to a star rating on Goodreads. More likely to reread, but not guaranteed.

★★★★ - I really enjoyed this!! I would recommend it (sometimes with caveats about content warnings or such--I tend to like weird fucked up funny shit, and I don't have many hard readerly NO's). Not a perfect book for me by any means, but Very Good. This is something I would reread! Join me!!

★★★★★ - I LOVED THE SHIT OUT OF THIS, IT REWIRED MY BRAIN, WILL RECOMMEND TO ANYONE AND EVERYONE AT THE SLIGHTEST PROVOCATION (content warning caveats still apply--see 4-star disclaimer). Excellent book, I'll reread it regularly, I'll buy copies for all my friends, I'll try to convince all of Booklr to read it, PLEASE join me!!

#books of 2024 #books of 2024: july wrap-up #ordinary monsters #jm miro #if found return to hell #em x liu #the haunting of hill house #shirley jackson #the actor and the target #declan donnellan #when among crows #veronica roth #always coming home #ursula k. le guin #ezloved do you see how i've hacked my stars :)#take THAT threes!!#also the Brick Books Here were: 1. monsters 2. actor/target and 3. le guin #AND TWO OF THOSE REQUIRE SO MANY BRAIN CELLS HOLY SHIT #i don't even know how to read the le guin so i'm checking out her referenced page numbers as she references them #it's slow it's chewing i think that's the Point #i probably need a separate bed time read but i haven't been doing much reading not during bedtime so....#i know i posted a picture of GHOST STATION a few days ago but i haven't started it yet (oops)#(i accidentally made myself a hell of a week i'm so tired lol)

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kyndredravenstories · 4 months ago

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Eyes of Infinity: Delirium Chapter 6

Hello, I have been posting my work on AO3 and recently decided to venture here to Tumblr. Please note: This story is 18+. No minors. Please read tags carefully. Link to AO3 below but I will also be posting the chapters here.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/53564641/chapters/148721101#workskin

Pairing: Sylus/Female MC with some elements of Xavier/Female MC

Genre: Romance, Drama, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Angst, Adventure, Smut, Porn with Big Plot and Big Feelings

Content Warning (For the entire fic): Explicit sexual content, spoilers and alterations to existing lore and cards/memories/tender moments/secret times, size kink, size difference, vaginal sex, cunnilingus, anal sex, fingering, all kinds of fingering, elements of consensual somno, dom!Sylus, jealousy, possessive!Sylus, Mephisto stalking, typical game violence, battle and combat

Summary: To love him meant stepping over the threshold and crossing into darkness. To be with him meant accepting the lure of the shadows. And to protect him from betrayal meant sacrifice. I knew not how, only that I would not let time sever our paths ever again.

Previous Chapters: Ch 1 / Ch 2 / Ch 3 / Ch 4 / Ch 5

I wake up ravenous.

My first instinct is to find food. Immediately. It feels like my stomach is rubbing up against my spine. I'm thirsty, too. Parched like I've been in a desert for weeks. As I move to get up, I realize I'm lying on a soft mattress covered in black silk sheets. They swish softly with each of my motions. I wince as I get up. My body throbs with each stretch of my muscles, and my head is pounding like a drum. I reach up in response to the pain, discovering that my shoulder, arm, and part of my head are covered in gauze and bandages. I vaguely remember the battle at the Mythe; my memory is still hazy. But, I do recall waking up in Sylus's arms and drifting off as I lay in the bath.

I look around. This place isn't the same one I fell asleep in. In fact, I do recognize this bed and the beautifully carved headboard. My cheeks grow hot. This is Sylus's home. And his bed. He must have taken me here after what happened. I should probably be worried. After all, I'm in the N109, in the home of its proverbial king. Yet, I'm more curious than afraid.

A pair of soft black slippers is waiting for me at the side of the bed. Someone dressed me in a warm sweatshirt and pants. The sleeves are much too long, and I have to fold up the pants so I don't trip over them. I spot a full length mirror some distance away and pad to it. As I examine my reflection, my cheeks grow even hotter. I swear that lately all I wear are Sylus's clothes. The thought is so intimate that I don't know what to do with myself. For now, I file it away for later introspection.

A shuffling sound in the corner catches my attention.

"Mephisto," I call out, spotting the large crow snoozing on his golden perch by Sylus's study. He blinks open one eye and makes a grumbling noise, going back to sleep soon after.

I make a circle around the room, taking in the décor, shelves of books, records, and ornaments. Sylus has incredible taste. Either that, or he hires a private decorator. Either way, I'm impressed. I'm also curious to learn more about the rest of this house. As I approach the doorway with double doors, Mephisto caws and flutters over to perch on my uninjured shoulder.

Behind me, a familiar ring tone jingles a pleasant melody. I turn around and see a phone lying on Sylus's desk. Walking over to it, I see words flashing on the caller ID:

Pick up

Curious, I take the call, pressing the phone to my ear.

"Good morning," a soft baritone greets.

"Sylus? How did you know I was awake?" On my shoulder, Mephisto caws. "Oh, I see."

"How are you feeling?"

I straighten my shoulders subconsciously. "Some pain, but OK. I'm hungry."

He chuckles, and I clutch at the hem of my sweatshirt.

I suddenly want to see him.

Badly.

"There's food ready for you. Take your pick."

"Where?"

"Why don't you explore a bit?"

"You want a Hunter to roam around your house?"

"Why? Are you going to get me in trouble?" I can practically hear him smirking. "Sounds like a fun game."

I make an exasperated noise. "Right. I forgot you're almighty and have nothing to fear."

"Sounds like you're figuring it out," he says, ignoring my sarcasm. We chat for several minutes like this, and I'm shocked at how much I enjoy just talking with Sylus and poking fun at each other. I check the phone for the time, surprised to see that it's 4:00 AM.

"It's so early," I frown. "I'm never up this early."

"Go eat," he reminds me.

That's when I realize that I don't want to hang up the phone. I curl my finger around a lock of my hair nervously, feeling about as ridiculous as a high schooler talking to her first crush. I push away that thought.

"Sylus," I start, not really knowing what to say.

"I'll be back soon," comes his low soft promise. "Be a good girl and wait for me."

We hang up the call, and I stare at the phone for some time. I poke through the settings, frustrated when I see that I can only make outgoing calls to Sylus's number. My thoughts shift to Xavier. I hope he can wait just a little longer for me to reach out.

I begin exploring the house. It's much larger than I remember. With the ever present darkness, it's impossible to tell the time of day. It's like being trapped in a separate dimension. I go through several rooms, impressed by the walls and floors covered in exquisite black marble. When I make it to one particular set of doors, two shadowy figures jump out of nowhere to block my path. I stumble back, relieved when I recognize the strange masks and dark armor.

"Luke, Kieran," I breathe a sigh of relief.

"Oops. Did we scare you?" Luke asks, tilting his head.

"Can't go in here," Kieran says, folding his arms across his chest.

"Sylus didn't give me any restrictions," I protest jokingly. "But, honestly, I'm just looking for food."

As they guide me to the dining room, we share a few words. To my surprise, the twins are rather easy to talk to.

"Luke," I pause in my steps. One of the twins turns to look at me. "Were you alright? The LUMINIS didn't hurt you, did it?"

He taps the side of his face then steps closer to me. "Lady, you're kind of messed up in the head, huh?"

I blink up at him. "What do you mean?"

He makes an exaggerated hum, like he's thinking hard. "I'm not your buddy. I'm your warden. That question...It's kind of like a prisoner worrying about his jailer, isn't it?"

I'm still confused. "Prisoner?"

Suddenly Kieran laughs, clapping his hands together. "Aw, look. She doesn't know. Poor thing."

Luke shrugs. "She'll know soon enough."

"What are you two talking about?" I ask with a frown.

"Boss-man doesn't have guests," Kieran says. "If you're here, you're just a prisoner."

"Or a toy," Luke adds, holding up a finger. "Till the Boss gets bored. Then I guess he'll find something else to play with."

I wad a piece of my sweatshirt in my fist, really not knowing what to think of their discussion. I'm a prisoner? That doesn't seem right. Didn't Sylus bring me here to keep me safe while I heal? Am I really so naïve that I've completely misread his intentions? He hadn't tried to keep me anywhere against my will since the first time we met. I helped him when he needed me, as we agreed. In return, he helped me look for more information about the Aether Cores and those who may have killed my family.

Is it really that simple, though?

And how much did that one night of passion weigh against all these assumptions?

Since when was I so comfortable around Sylus?

Oh my god. Where has my mind been all this time?

I shiver, like someone dumped a bucket of cold water over my head. I look around again, and suddenly the beautiful black marble and gold-trimmed walls feel like a gilded cage rather than a home.

"Uh-oh," Kieran chimes. "Looks like we might have hurt her feelings."

"Just managing expectations," Luke waves his hands.

"I gotta say," Kieran continues, "you fight pretty good. Your aim needs work though."

"...aim?" I ask, my voice strained.

Kieran does a little twirl as he sidesteps around Luke to stand in front of me. He leans in, and I'm momentarily disoriented by his raven mask's red eyes. "You can't be stupid enough to think that shooting someone in the arm or in the foot will stop 'em from getting up and shooting you in the head, yeah?"

"She's not a killer, Kieran," Luke says.

"That's the problem, isn't it?" Kieran shrugs.

On my shoulder, Mephisto stirs and gives an angry squawk. He flutters his wings then settles down. While I'm trying to process all this, my stomach growls loudly.

"Let's get some chow," Kieran says. "Come on, Lady."

We walk to the dining room, and when I see the extravagant feast set up on the large table at the center, I momentarily forget my angst. All kinds of dishes greet my ravenous gaze. Roasted chicken with some kind of glaze, fish and seafood, several kind of soup, fruits that look fresher than any I've ever seen, and a side table with cheesecakes and yogurt parfaits. I lick my lips, my eyes gravitating towards the chicken and fruit.

I don't hesitate to dig in. Grabbing a plate - or two - I scoop up a little bit of everything to try. There's no disappointment on my end. Everything tastes like it came from a five star cookery. There's a pitcher with some kind of divinely flavored water; I down several glasses. I save the oranges - my favorite - for last. Breathing in their fragrance, I begin to peel a few, already anticipating how delicious they'll be.

Luke and Kieran grab some samples for themselves as well, chattering about topics I don't understand. I tune them out, but I am impressed at how in sync they are. Everything from their movements to the way they finish and start each other's sentences speaks volumes of how close they are. I've never seen them fight, but I imagine that they are quite a formidable force. They'd have to be, to serve Sylus as closely as they do. Unfortunately, it also means they likely know their Boss much better than I can hope to.

Their previous words sting as I munch on a few slices of oranges. I'm so entranced by the food that I hardly notice when the sound of footsteps begins to echo behind me. I glance up and see that Luke and Kieran have disappeared. With a ruffle of his wings, Mephisto takes flight from my shoulder to the back of the room.

I whirl around to see Sylus smirking as he looms in the doorway; Mephisto happily settles on his shoulder. Sylus is so tall that the top of his head almost touches the casing. Right away, his sheer presence winds up the coil of tension in my body. I don't know whether it's because I've Resonated with him so much, but it seems that lately I can always feel him when he's this close. That or I just need to break down and admit that the man is intimidating no matter what setting he's in.

He's wearing a black button up shirt and dark dress jeans that hug his hips and muscular thighs. A dark red jacket is draped over his shoulders, flowing behind him like a warrior's banner. The gun holster at his hip is empty, and his pointed black dress shoes look like they've got some dust on them. One hand rests in his pocket while the other strokes at his chin, his crimson eyes vivid and fierce. He's covered in red spatters and stains, but I can't see any wounds.

It's not my blood - his voice echoes in my mind from yesterday. Hollow and cold.

And yet, I'm not afraid.

"Sylus," I can't help the way my voice softens when I say his name. "You're back. Are you...hurt?"

He huffs and brushes his thumb against his cheek. Like a flickering illusion, all the blood turns into dust and evaporates in a crimson flash from his clothes and skin. My heart drums in my chest, and I don't understand the rush of emotions clamoring for attention within. Excitement? Intimidation? Yearning? Do I want to run? If so, do I want to run away from him or towards him?

He keeps staring at me until I want to squirm, but I will myself to keep my back straight. I've told him over and over I'm not a small animal that needs protection, and I don't want to renege on that assertion.

"Um," I swallow thickly as he takes a step towards me. I look towards the dining table, unable to maintain his predatory gaze. "This food is delicious."

Another step.

He raises his hand and snaps his fingers.

And then he's gone.

Mephisto flies to his golden perch in the corner of the room.

One second.

Two.

In a whoosh of blazing Evol and ruby mist, Sylus appears right behind me. Long arms emerge from the shadows to wrap around my waist. Even as I start to turn around, I'm pulled backwards against the length of him, his body heat encasing me like a stygian cloak. Long fingers caress my neck and guide me to move my head so that soft sensual lips can press against the pulse at my throat.

He smells like earthy smoke, fading ash, and the untamed wind. He smells like battle. I imagine him flying through the night on his motorcycle - powerful, free, untouchable. I wonder what dangers he faced last night and how he overcame them. I wonder if I'll always worry about him like this. There's really no need. I can't imagine there would ever be a situation he can't handle.

I lean into him. I really can't help myself. This man constantly throws me off kilter, and I have no hope of regaining my balance. All I can do is let him lead while I follow. Otherwise, I'll be so lost that I won't ever find my way. He makes me forget about the natural boundaries of the world I know; makes me unafraid at the prospect of stepping into the eclipse as long as I am by his side.

"Looks like you've made yourself right at home in the lion's den," he teases. His lips curve into a smile against my skin. I whimper when his palms snake up my sides and reach around to cup my breasts.

"...was hungry..." I breathe, closing my eyes against a rush of pleasure.

"I'm rather hungry myself," he purrs. "It's been a long night, and you look delicious." He traces my arm all the way from my shoulder to my wrist, sending bolts of electricity buzzing over my skin. Bringing my hand to his lips, he breathes in.

"You smell delicious too. Like oranges and spice..." Slowly, deliberately, his mouth wraps around my index finger.

"Mmn...Sylus..." I almost want to tell him to wait, to stop, that this is too much for me. But, his eyes bore into me, silencing my protests. I struggle to keep breathing. I know where this is going, but I'm still worried for him.

I bite my lip as he lifts me up just enough to rub my backside against his hips. The hardness there is a testament to the fact that he is very far from tired. His fingers mold into my belly, teasing me with controlled pressure in just the right spots while his tongue traces the sensitive grooves between the fingers on my hand.

"You just got back. Shouldn't you...mnn...rest?"

"Is that what you want me to do?" His tone is dangerous, like subdued thunder.

He pulls back from my hand, and I take a few breaths to recover. It's too late, though. The fire's been lit, and if I don't take it to conclusion I am going to be disappointed.

"Well?" he asks again.

I shake my head. "No..."

"Then," he presses his lips to my left ear and lets out a long hot breath. It tickles, but it also feels incredible. "What does my little kitten want?"

"Please...touch there..."

"Which part?" he asks, pressing himself into me while massaging my body. His tongue traces the shell of my ear, his mouth culminating its journey with a soft bite to my neck. I moan, unable to answer.

"Here?" He licks the spot he just bit, soothing the sting.

"Yes," I whine. "There..."

"And here?"

His hand slides past the waistband of my shorts, fingers inching slowly lower and lower. When he presses against my apex, I gasp and jerk away. My shoulder is starting to hurt, but I don't want Sylus to stop. The way he's grinding me against him is working me into a frenzy, and when his finger slips between my folds I can't help but dig my nails into his forearm. I pull my trembling fingers back, not wanting to hurt him.

"Harder," he growls. "Show me how good it feels."

A few strokes and I'm ready to do anything he tells me to. I move my hips against his hand, throwing my head back. "Nnn...ah....Sylus..." My whimpers turn needy as his finger slips inside me. He starts pumping it in and out, and my knees go weak. His sinewy arms keep me from falling, holding me so close that I can hear his every breath. I claw him harder like he asks, breaking skin and drawing blood.

"More...faster..." I beg him.

"As you wish." Another finger joins the first, stretching me open until I see stars. He increases his pace, curling, bending, reaching for something inside. Suddenly, I'm scared. The pleasure is building too fast. There's a pressure in my belly I can't understand. I gasp, trying to run from the feeling.

"Wait...no...too much..."

"First I'm too gentle, and now I'm too rough," he purrs. "You should make up your mind."

"Too much," I cry out. "Wait...Sylus..."

He chuckles. "No," he kisses the nape of my neck. "I don't think I will."

He keeps driving his fingers into my depths until he snags something inside. I jerk and shudder, and he knows he's found what he's been seeking. He focuses on it, then, despite me begging for his mercy. Again and again, he hits that spot inside me. I go numb one second; the next, everything feels too sharp and intense. I can't catch my breath. Harder and harder I claw at his arms, his clothes, his hand. My climax is like a riptide. My vision goes black as my whole body convulses in ecstasy. I scream out his name, and hot sticky fluids coat my shorts and Sylus's hand. I sag in his arms with a whimper, trembling all over. Without missing a beat, he lifts me into his powerful embrace.

Grabbing the collar of his shirt, I yank him down into a fiery kiss. Our tongues slip and slide together, and I lament how in control he is. Until, with a growl, he snaps. Leans down so my body is tilted, driving his tongue into my mouth until I can't take a breath. At last, when I start to see spots, he pulls back. My lips are throbbing, swollen, and sore. I'm dizzy with need, so aroused that I can hardly bear the ache between my legs. Resting my head against his chest, I wince as I try to find a position where my shoulder doesn't hurt.

"What is it?" he asks, all mirth suddenly gone from his voice. "Are you in pain?"

I find his eyes, still breathing raggedly, still trembling. I wonder if I am imagining the concern in his gaze. "I'm alright. Sylus, please don't stop."

I need more of him - his lips, his tongue, his fingers, and everything past that. I stare at his rugged features, mesmerized, then reach up to cup his face with both of my hands. He closes his eyes, leaning into my palm. This man. This beast. As I hold him, I can't fathom how I'm doing so. Embracing him is like holding a living flame. Too close and I'll get burned. Yet, I can't stop. Can't let go.

I cry out in surprise when he lifts me farther up his body, until I'm almost draped over his shoulder. It takes the friction away from my injuries, and our faces are nearly touching. Just like before in the hotel, gravity pulls us together until our foreheads press against one another. I forget all my doubts and fears when I spiral down into the wine of his eyes.

"Come, I'll take you to bed."

My fingers thread into his hair. I have no pride left. No dignity.

"Please," I implore. "Please, don't stop."

His eyes are my world, so I can't see his expression. But, I see the corners of those eyes crinkle in amusement.

"I didn't say I would stop. I'm just taking you to bed." He doesn't warn me this time. His Evol wraps around us, pulsing and flowing through me. The world spins, blurring into a watercolor painting. My body moves without my direction. I gasp at the feeling of a rapid rise and drop.

And then my back is cradled among silk sheets. One second I'm alone among a shower of falling black feathers, and the next Sylus appears from thin air, fitting against me as perfectly as one half of a whole. We kiss, and he's gentle this time. His hands continue what they started in the dining room. He positions himself between my legs and starts kissing downwards from my neck to my chest.

"Tell me," he murmurs with his head buried in my breasts. "Were you waiting anxiously for my return?"

My ears burn, and I shake my head.

"Tell the truth now." He draws my nipple into his mouth, and I pull at his hair.

"I wasn't," I insist, my thighs hugging his hips, pulling him against me. My shorts disappear in short order, his hand coming back to wring more cries of pleasure from me as he teases my clit.

"But, you want me now. Listen to your sweet little mewls, kitten. Your body is begging for me." Leaning over me, he pushes my legs up against my chest and thrusts his fingers even deeper inside me. I'm mortified. He can see everything from this angle, and my shyness momentarily overtakes my awareness. I try to hide my face with my hands, but he gently pulls them down.

"Don't hide your face from me," he commands. "Not ever."

I cry out in bliss as his fingers curl inside me. He starts up an erratic rhythm, and my head swims. As though from a distance, I hear my voice - moaning, whining, sobbing.

"Ah...wait...not so deep..."

He doesn't let me come even though I approach the edge several times. My eyes water with tears as pleasure and frustration washes over me.

"S-Sylus," I cry out. "Please...please..."

His tongue spirals into my belly button, and I buck my hips.

"Please let me come," I plead.

"So? Were you waiting for me or not?"

"I was!" I sob. "I...was..."

He hums in approval. "You're cute when you're honest."

His fingers stop moving. He pulls back and unbuttons his shirt. In the low light of the bedroom, his red eyes gleam with satisfaction. Shucking off his shirt and jacket, he leans over me. I lick my lips, my eyes devouring his athletic form, my arousal building and reaching a fever pitch. He frees his erection from his pants, and my mouth goes dry again. Without further conversation, he pushes my legs up even higher and slips inside me. I clutch at the bed sheets as I experience an earth-shattering orgasm.

It's not the last time. Sylus sets a steady rigorous pace, and I let myself float in a sea of new and incredible sensations. He takes me over and over until I'm a sweaty, shivering, and drooling mess, hitting me so deep inside that I can hardly breathe. My voice is hoarse, and I can't feel my fingers or my toes.

"No...Sylus...please," I whimper as he pulls me into his lap and slides to the edge of the bed. "I can't...I can't anymore-ah!" I throw my head back as he spears into me.

"We're not stopping yet," he says, his voice strained and breathy. "Not when you're squeezing me this hard." His hands settle on my hips, fingers digging into the flesh of my butt cheeks. I feel like I might faint when he starts to move, bouncing me up and down on his engorged cock until I come again and again. With a low growl of satisfaction, he reaches his own peak, filling my womb with his cum.

When I fall forward, he helps me wrap my arms around his shoulders. We sit like that for a while, regaining our bearings, sharing breaths and kisses. I love feeling him inside me; being joined with him. His hands stroke my hair and my back. I nuzzle into his neck, taking in his scent, memorizing it. Without pulling out of me, he leans back on the bed, letting me rest comfortably against him.

I steal a peek at his face. He fingers a lock of my hair, his expression thoughtful. When enough time passes, I gather my courage to speak.

"Sylus..."

"Hmm?"

"What are we doing? What is this?"

He doesn't answer, and I put my head back down against his chest. Maybe he doesn't know either. Putting a name to this is too complicated, after all.

"Ellara," he murmurs my name.

"Yes?"

"Things are about to escalate with Noxis."

I try to sit up, but Sylus holds me in place.

"You mean with LUMINIS?"

He pauses. "You're going to be hunted."

"I'm not afraid of them."

Another awkward silence as Sylus continues stroking my back.

"See that your courage doesn't turn into recklessness. I don't want a repeat of yesterday."

I nod.

"I've arranged for your knight to pick you up tomorrow at midnight."

Startled, I manage to sit so I can see his face. "Knight?"

He smirks. "The one you call your partner," he clarifies. "The one with the collar around his neck."

"Xavier?" My eyes go wide. "You called him?"

His fingers stroke my cheek. "If he's going to be of any use to you, I'm going to need to break that collar. Tomorrow, I'll do so."

I settle down against him when he pulls me forward, too exhausted to process everything he's saying. As he pets my hair, I start to drift off.

"Sylus, what am I to you?" I mumble, already half asleep. "Am I just a phase? A diversion?"

He huffs. "Another incredible misunderstanding. Should I correct it this time?"

My eyes close, his warmth too cozy and comforting for me to resist. "Mmm hmm..."

"I'll tell you when you can hold a proper conversation," he chuckles, pulling a silk sheet over both of us. "The safest place for you is here, Ellara. But, I will not cage you. Do as you will for now. One day, you will choose to stand by my side."

#love and deepspace #sylus #sylus/mc #sylusposting #sylus x mc #sylus love and deepspace #love and deepspace fanfic #eyes of infinity delirium #lnds #lnds xavier #lnds fanfic #lnds sylus

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