#for an impromptu drawing session

[cupiare]

i might finally get my wish of running an art club this is not a drill ‼️‼️‼️

[alpacacare-archive]

success

[revelingrexan]

"...not very clever!"

and then Alastor cusses for the first time in the show :D

[ellecdc]

teehee potions partners turned friends to lovers! James and reader. She has a massive crush on him and finally built up the courage to confess! On the other hand, James is all 😀🧍🏻? because he thought they’ve been dating for the past 3 weeks after their trip to hogsmeade <3

-⭐️

sooooo cute, thanks for the prompt!!

James Potter x fem!reader who can't be friends with him anymore [1.6k words]

CW: miscommunication trope? sort of?, fluff, written for a fem!reader but no gender is defined other than one mention of 'darling girl'

It felt beyond tortuous at this point. It felt inhumane to even have to be within the same vicinity as James Potter.

You’d always found him quite distracting; the kind of attractive that demanded your attention whether you wanted to give it or not. Between that and his penchant for drawing attention to himself, it was difficult to do anything but notice him.

Thankfully for you, you’d always found your attraction to the Gryffindor to be wholly physical and visual in nature; sure, he was nice to look at, but you had no interest in talking to the loud, brash, boisterous, mischievous Gryffindor who was nothing but trouble if his infamous pranks and many detentions were anything to go by.

And then Professor Sprout paired the two of you together for your year end project.

And then you were forced to spend every class sharing a potting bench with him plus the various library meetings you had to set up in order to finish the written portion of the assignment.

And then, possibly worst of all, the two of you had taken a trip to Hogsmeade to pick up some seeds and gardening equipment which turned into an impromptu shopping trip through Tomes & Scrolls, Honeydukes, Zonkos, and ended with a butterbeer in the Three Broomsticks.

And you loved it, which you hated.

You hated it because you’d come to learn over the latter part of the term that James Potter was boisterous, but in a rather charismatic way. 

You learned that James Potter was mischievous, but in a painfully clever way. 

James Potter played an awful lot of pranks on Hogwarts students and staff, but the majority of them (save the ones against a few particular Slytherin students) were lighthearted in nature. 

And though James Potter was, perhaps, loud and brash when surrounded by his friends and quidditch team mates, he was somehow overwhelmingly soft and relaxed around you. 

For you, James always came across as rather…simple in the corridors of the castle and at mealtimes; you only knew him as the loud jokester who bantered with anyone and everyone within earshot. But you learned quite quickly that he was a very high-performing student and barely had to put in any effort to pass with flying colours.

Which, unfortunately, left him a lot of time to talk with you.

You learned that he was fiercely loyal and protective of his own; he loved no one more than he loved his friends who were more like family to him at this point. He had a strong sense of justice, and you learned that many of his more…aggressive pranks on the Slytherin’s turned out to be his own version of vigilante justice for some slur or hateful action they’d been stupid enough to say or do in front of the Marauders.

You also learned that he was just lovely; he always pulled your chair out for you if he got to your table before you, he showed up to the library one evening late for your scheduled study session and before you had any time to scold him for it, he presented a plate of food that he had procured from the Great Hall for you two to share with an apology on his lips for being late, ‘it’s important to keep your blood sugars up; we need that beautiful brain of yours, angel’ he’d told you, and it took you perhaps the rest of the study session to get your cheeks to cool and heart rate to return to normal.

And that was probably the worst part - the nicknames; the endearments that fell so naturally from his lips as if they were simply carved out of the English language just for you, as if there was no other possible way he could refer to you other than as his ‘angel’, ‘sweetness’, or ‘darling girl’. 

You couldn’t take it anymore, you just couldn’t; you found yourself feeling completely insecure about your … friendship? Relationship? … with him that when you so much as even heard him talk to another student, you were filled with a heavy jealousy that left you feeling nothing but shame because you had no right to be jealous over someone you had no claim over.

So, you had decided, today was the day.

Today was the day you were going to come clean, the day you were going to admit your feelings to James so that you could rid yourself of this heavy burden; this crush.

He’ll either turn you down and you can get on with life, or….

Well…

You had not really thought that far ahead.

And it didn’t look like you would have any time to as he walked through the door and flashed you a beaming smile that saw both dimples make an appearance.

Oh gods…there was no way that someone so lovely, so beautiful, so effervescent could ever reciprocate feelings for the likes of you.

Of course not!

There was only one way this was going to go, and it was going to end in your spirit being crushed.

“Hey, angel!” He greeted with a smacking kiss to your cheek. “I’m glad to see you! What did you want to talk about?” He asked as he sat beside you on the bench and angeled his entire body towards you; like you were the only thing worth directing his attention at.

Oh, you were going to miss that.

“I don’t think we can be friends anymore.” You blurted rather suddenly.

James looked as though you’d just slapped him; his head actually rearing back as he blinked at you.

“I- what?” He asked breathlessly. 

“I…I just don’t think we can be friends anymore.” You murmured quieter this time, no longer able to make eye contact with him and turning your gaze towards the woodgrain of the table you were sitting at. 

“And why not, exactly?” He asked; voice level and controlled in a way you’d not heard the likes of before. 

“Because I…I don’t want to be your friend, James.” 

“You don’t want to be my friend?” He deadpanned in return.

“I…I rather wish we were more.” You admitted. “I find that I’ve, uhm, well I…I seem to have feelings for you and…I can’t just be friends with you anymore.”

You decided to stop your rather embarrassing and nonsensical ramble and stole a glance at James in your periphery to see he was leaning on his elbow and had his hand covering his mouth as he stared at you.

His eyes were crinkled in the corners and shining with mirth and you realised then that he was laughing at you.

“Are you-”

“No!”

“You are!”

“No, angel, I’m-”

“You’re laughing at me!” You all but screeched in the library of all places and made to stand, only for James’ hands to shoot out and catch you at your wrists, exposing his beaming smile and the fact that his shoulders were absolutely shaking with laughter.

“Sh, wait, don’t go-”

“James Potter, don’t shush me!” You whisper-shouted as you tried to wrench your wrists from his grasp, only to have him laugh harder and pull you back down into your seat with little effort on his part.

“Hey, listen! Listen to me.” He begged between laughs. “I’m not laughing at you, I’m just laughing because- hey!” He paused as you managed to free one of your hands and whacked him in the very muscular arm for it. “I’m laughing because I was under the impression that we already were dating.”

You stared at him in shock as he let out a few more chuckles; holding your gaze with his warm brown ones as he rubbed circles on your wrists with his thumbs.

“What?” You finally asked dumbly.

“I was very much under the impression that our Hogsmeade trip was our first date, sweetheart.” He explained.

“But, why?”

“I told you I had a lovely time and asked if we could do it again?” 

“I thought you meant, as like…study partners!” You offered defensively. 

“Do study partners often kiss your cheek in greeting?” He asked with a raised eyebrow.

“I just thought you were very affectionate!”

He nodded his head back-and-forth as if saying ‘fair enough’ before moving his gaze back to you and offering you a salacious smirk. 

“Then, for the purpose of being completely candid, I absolutely did not do any of the aforementioned things, nor what I’m about to do, in a platonic manner, okay?”

His eyes flit to your lips and back up as he leaned closer to you. “Okay..”

“Yeah?” He whispered, his nose mere centimetres from your own as he searched your eyes for any hesitation. 

“Yeah.” You agreed with a nod, moving your eyes to his lips just before he closed the distance between you.

His lips were warm and purposeful against yours, feeling as though they’d been longing to do exactly this from the moment the two of you shared words.

He took a long, deep breath in as if he was desperate to get more of you - to memorise how you tasted, how you smelt, and how you felt as he brought his hands up to rest on either side of your jaw - while you felt all of the tension, worry, and air leave your lungs with a whoosh of relief. 

‘Finally’ your body seemed to be saying.

James broke apart from you before pressing his forehead against yours and brushing his thumbs against your cheeks. 

“Finally.” He agreed with your internal dialogue. “Was that clear enough for you, angel?”

“Yeah, Jamie.” You offered with a breathless chuckle. “Finally.” You repeated.

Finally.

[faithfulren]

late night art

late at night in the 1-A dorm common room, izuku and y/n bond over an impromptu art session. while izuku doodles all might in funny scenarios, y/n secretly sketches a portrait of him.

----

the common room of the 1-A dorms was quiet, the moonlight spilling through the large windows and casting a soft glow on the scattered art supplies on the coffee table. most of the class was already asleep, but y/n and izuku sat side by side on the floor, surrounded by sketch pads, pencils, and a few stray markers.

izuku was hunched over his paper, biting his lip in concentration as he carefully shaded what looked like a small doodle of all might holding a cat. “i’m not really good at this,” he mumbled, glancing sideways at y/n. “but it’s kind of fun.”

y/n peeked over at his work, a grin tugging at their lips. “you’re doing fine, midoriya. that’s adorable. all might with a cat, though?”

izuku flushed, his pencil pausing mid-stroke. “i-i just thought… it’d be cute. like, maybe he had a pet when he was younger or something.”

“that’s actually really sweet,” y/n said, shaking their head as they turned back to their own drawing. they’d been sketching a quick portrait of izuku without telling him, trying to capture the way he always looked so determined, even while doing something as simple as art.

after a few minutes of silence, izuku tilted his head toward them, curiosity getting the better of him. “what are you drawing?” he asked, leaning closer to peek. jis eyes widened when he saw the lines of his own face staring back at him.

“is that… me?” he asked, his cheeks flushing pink.

y/n paused, caught in the act, before shrugging nonchalantly. “yeah. you’ve been sitting still for so long, it was easy to use you as a reference.”

izuku blinked, his gaze shifting between the sketch and y/n’s face. “it’s… amazing. you make me look way cooler than i really am.”

y/n rolled their eyes, a soft laugh escaping them. “you’re plenty cool, midoriya. you just don’t see it.”

they fell into a comfortable silence again, occasionally breaking it with quiet comments about each other’s work. by the end of the night, y/n had a series of quick sketches of izuku, while he proudly showed off a little collection of all might doodles with increasingly ridiculous scenarios, like all might in a chef’s hat or balancing a stack of books.

as the sky outside began to lighten with the first hints of dawn, y/n tore a page from their sketch pad a detailed portrait of izuku with his focused expression and handed it to him.

“here,” they said, pressing it into his hands. “keep it. a reminder of how amazing you are, even when you don’t feel like it.”

izuku stared at the drawing, his expression softening into a shy, grateful smile. “thank you, y/n. this means a lot.”

with that, they gathered up their supplies, sharing quiet goodbyes as they headed back to their rooms. as y/n crawled into bed, they couldn’t help but smile, knowing they���d shared a moment that was just theirs, etched into the stillness of the night.

[moonxytcn]

Heyyy (btw before I request anything ur writing is literally pure GOLD) anyways could u write about how the reader and billie have always been friends since childhood up to her newest album hit me hard and soft. Billie is on tour and the reader always finds a way to get front row tickets to her bestfriends shows. A few days before tour started the reader posted a TikTok with billie lying across her lap on the sofa. In the comments there was lots of speculation about a flirty friendship (behind closed doors the reader and billie both knew that was true). A few days later Billie was performing in LA. An hour or so into the show billie starts singing ‘Billie Bossa Nova’ from her album happier than ever. When it gets to the lyrics “nobody saw me in the lobby…𝐧𝐨𝐛𝐨𝐝𝐲 𝐬𝐚𝐰 𝐦𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐬” Billie gave a smirk to the crowd instantly locking eyes with the reader and winking knowing full well that due to that TikTok posted a few days before, EVERYBODY saw her in your arms.

Nobody saw me in your arms

| Billie Eilish x fem!reader

summary – Billie and you finally talk about how you feel after years of hidden feelings and fan speculation

warnings – fluffy

a/n – heyyy thank you so much for the request!! hope you like it

| English is not my first language so there may be some errors.

| Masterlist —✽— Pinned Post

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Billie’s voice echoes through the packed venue, the energy in the room palpable as she performs each song with the intensity and emotion that only she can bring. You’ve always been amazed at how she can captivate an audience, how she can make every single person in the room feel like she’s singing directly to them. But tonight, as you stand front row, the bass reverberating through your chest, you know that, for at least one song, she really is singing to you.

It’s been like this for as long as you can remember. From the time you were kids, Billie had a way of drawing people in. You still remember the days when she’d sneak into your room with a mischievous grin, her hair dyed some new, vibrant color, and a guitar slung over her shoulder. Back then, it was just the two of you, making up songs and laughing until your sides hurt. You’d listen to her dreams of becoming a star, and though you always believed in her, it was hard to imagine the tiny spark of a girl next door turning into the powerhouse standing on stage tonight.

You’ve been by her side through it all. From those early, impromptu jam sessions in your living room to the first time she played in front of a real crowd, you’ve watched her grow into the artist she is today. And no matter how big she’s gotten, how many millions of fans scream her name, she’s always made sure you were right there with her.

When Billie’s latest album, 'Hit Me Hard and Soft', dropped, you were one of the first people to hear it. She’d sent you the demos before the rest of the world even knew it existed, nervously biting her lip as she waited for your reaction. Of course, you loved it. How could you not? The album was everything she was—bold, vulnerable, raw, and beautiful. It was a testament to everything she’d been through, and everything you’d gone through together.

But of all the songs she has ever made, one has caught her attention. 'Billie Bossa Nova' was different from the rest, and when you first heard it, your heart skipped a beat. The lyrics were sultry, teasing, full of secrets whispered behind closed doors. You recognized yourself in the song, in the way Billie’s voice dipped and softened, in the way she played with the words like they were meant just for you. And you knew, in that moment, that your friendship had never been just a friendship.

You never talked about it—not really. Sure, there had been moments, stolen glances, lingering touches, that said more than words ever could. But neither of you wanted to ruin what you had. The connection between you was too special, too rare to risk by putting a label on it. So you kept it quiet, hidden behind the walls of inside jokes and childhood memories.

But a few days before the tour kicked off, something changed. You’d posted a TikTok of the two of you lounging on your sofa, Billie sprawled across your lap, her head resting comfortably against your chest. It was an innocent video, just a moment of you two being you, but the comments quickly exploded with speculation. People saw what was between you, even if you hadn’t fully admitted it to yourselves. The rumors of a "flirty friendship" spread like wildfire, with fans dissecting every interaction, every glance, every smile.

Billie had laughed it off when you showed her, her eyes twinkling with that familiar, mischievous glint. "Let them talk", she’d said, and you both agreed to keep it under wraps, to keep the world guessing.

And now, here you are, in the middle of her sold-out LA show, and you can feel the anticipation building. The setlist is winding down, and you know 'Billie Bossa Nova' is coming. You’ve been to every show so far on this tour, using every connection you have to secure front-row tickets. It's become your little tradition, a way to remind her that no matter how big her world gets, you'll always be there, front and center.

The lights dim, and the crowd hushes as the familiar, sultry beat of 'Billie Bossa Nova' starts to play. Billie steps to the edge of the stage, her gaze scanning the audience, and you can feel your heart start to race. You know this moment is for you.

As she sings, her voice dripping with honeyed tones, she sways to the rhythm, her eyes locking with yours. The crowd disappears, the world fades away, and it’s just the two of you, sharing a secret that no one else can touch. Then she gets to the line that makes your breath hitch every time: "Nobody saw me in the lobby…" She pauses for a beat, and you see the corner of her mouth quirk up in a playful smirk. "…nobody saw me in your arms."

And then she winks.

It’s quick, almost imperceptible to anyone not paying attention, but you catch it. Your stomach flips, a rush of warmth spreading through you as you realize what she’s just done. With that one simple gesture, she’s acknowledged everything. The TikTok, the rumors, the truth behind closed doors. She’s letting you know that she remembers, that she sees you, and that she’s just as affected as you are.

The crowd erupts into cheers, but you barely hear them. Your eyes are glued to Billie, your heart pounding as she finishes the song, still holding your gaze. When the final note fades, she blows a kiss to the audience, and you know that it’s meant for you.

The rest of the concert passes in a blur, your mind stuck on that moment, on the way she made you feel like the only person in the world. When the show finally ends, and the lights come up, you make your way backstage, your pulse racing with anticipation.

Billie’s waiting for you, her face flushed with the afterglow of the performance. "So." She says, a teasing lilt in her voice as she leans against the wall, "how’d you like the show?"

You roll your eyes, but you can’t keep the smile off your face. "You know I loved it."

"Good." She replies, her eyes sparkling. "Because that little wink? It was just for you."

Your breath catches as she steps closer, her gaze never leaving yours. "Billie, about that TikTok—" You start, but she cuts you off with a soft laugh.

"Don’t worry about it." She says, her voice low, almost a whisper. "Let them talk, remember?"

"But…" You hesitate, unsure of how to put everything you’re feeling into words. "But what if we want more than just letting them talk?"

She’s quiet for a moment, her expression softening as she reaches out to take your hand. "Then maybe it’s time we stop hiding." She says gently. "We’ve been dancing around this for years, and I’m tired of pretending. Aren’t you?"

You nod, your heart swelling with relief and something deeper, something that’s been building between you for as long as you can remember. "Yeah." You whisper, squeezing her hand. "I’m tired of pretending too."

Billie smiles, and it’s the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen. "Good." She says, pulling you into a hug that feels like coming home. "Because I want you in my life—front row, center stage—where you belong."

As you hold each other, the noise of the world fades away, and it’s just the two of you again, just like it’s always been. But this time, there are no more secrets, no more hiding. Just the truth, out in the open, for everyone to see.

[minkdelovely]

kinktober — day IX

prompt: biting

ripe

“but i know

you’ve got a taste

so just take a

bite of me”

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Alastor x Fem!Reader ; MDNI 18+

tags/warnings: biting, blood / blood play, dub-con (covering by bases here), flirting but make it cannibal (no actual consumption — that’s a different prompt lol), power dynamics (alastor’s not your boss but also not-not your boss?), heavy petting over clothes, digital stimulation, tentacle play, squirting, descriptions of biting, mentions of eating fruit and its texture 🍑✨

word count: 3.5k

summary: you make an off-handed comment that piques alastor’s interest, and he decides to test a hypothesis that ends with promising results!

author’s note: i don’t have much to say here (because it’s all in the body) but if you’ve got an oral fixation or a thing for biting my only hope is that this fits the bill 🙏🏻 oh and uh… i really hope y’all still like fruit after this lol quote is from the offering by sleep token.

coven: @fraugwinska @hazelfoureyes @macabr3-barbi3 @sugoi-writes @synamartia 🕯️♥️

the coven’s kinktober masterlist

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Everyone was snickering, but what you said had been innocent enough. And honest!

“What? Is that strange?”

Angel put his hand on your shoulder while the others tried to kill their laughs, looking at you with kind pity. “Babe,” he started, smile trembling as he fought to stay neutral, “down here that’s, like, one step away from bein’ a cannibal.”

Was it, really? 

You couldn’t recall how the conversation ended up here, but you had all been discussing your favorite fruits. When it was your turn to share, all you had said was that you preferred fleshy fruits because they were satisfying to bite. Peaches, especially. 

Though perhaps the laughter had been a blessing in disguise. It prevented you from finishing your thought, the remainder of which you now resigned to keep to yourself. Wide eyes and the blush burning your face brought the group to heel as they noticed your embarrassment, coughing to smother what was left of their mirth.

“It’s not strange at all,” Charlie said reassuringly. “Your answer was just…,” her hands danced in the air as she scrambled for her next word, “unexpected! But now that you mention it, I like grapes because they pop!”

That earned her a few sideward glances and teasing eyebrow wiggles, but she immediately dove into how texture was just as important as taste when it came to food in some cultures. Whether or not she was falling on the sword, you did appreciate her commiseration. It was enough to draw away attention from your admission, and the conversation eventually made its way to other topics. Before you knew it, the bonding session was done and you were all going your separate ways.

You were headed to your room to freshen up when Alastor caught you in front of the elevator. 

“Afternoon, my dear! Do you have a moment? There’s something I’d like to discuss with you.” His static voice was polite enough, but his grin seemed a bit… dubious.

Still, you didn’t really have a reason not to be honest. The two of you had a decent working relationship. Being in charge of inventory, Alastor checked in with you twice a day: nine in the morning and at night. You had already met up with him this morning, giving him a full rundown on what was stocked, what was getting low, and a few things Charlie had wanted to spruce up the common areas with. Nothing seemed to be out of the ordinary then, at least, despite his displeasure at the knickknacks the Princess had suggested.

Maybe something had happened while you were busy with the group? In the months you had known each other, Alastor had never asked for an impromptu meeting before… But there’s a first time for everything.

“Yes, I have time,” you conceded. “I was gonna touch up a bit, but I’ll just grab my binder and meet you in the conference room?”

The small conference room, A, down the hall of the main floor was where you usually met to go over your reports. It hadn’t been specifically designated for you two, but you met there so regularly everyone knew to leave it be. Being on the wrong side of Alastor’s temper wasn’t worth the trouble when there were other rooms available, if needed. 

“There will be no need for that,” Alastor assured brightly, hooking your arm through his to pivot from the elevator. “It’s something of a personal nature, actually.”

“Personal?” you blurted, immediately flushing at the slip. “Not that I mind, it’s just…”

Alastor smiled down at you, knowing what you meant without finishing your explanation. The relationship you had with him was strictly professional. Sure, you were friendly enough but in the way that co-workers are, but not confidants. For all intents and purposes, Alastor was your boss. If he was having problems in his personal life, he had friends worthy of his station to seek council with. So why you, all of a sudden? What advice could you possibly give to an Overlord who had been here for nearly a century while you were wet behind the ears?

There wasn’t much time to linger on it though, having quickly made it to your destination. Alastor removed himself from you to open the door, sweeping his arm before you with a flourish, directing you inside. The hand he placed on the dip of your back as you moved past him made you jump a little. 

Another first.

But you dismissed it, hoping your reaction didn’t put him off. This wasn’t a business meeting, after all. It was personal. And it wasn’t an unpleasant feeling. In fact, it was a bit surprising how much the gesture excited you. The light pressure of his hand spanning across the back of your waist made you acutely aware of just how much larger he was than you. Something you had registered neutrally as pure fact — he towered over most, if not all of you living here — was now making your heart quicken.

Alastor was debonair, to be sure, but you had always kept the lines between you clear in your mind. Well… as much as you could, for your part. It would be a lie to say that your daydreams didn’t wander now and then. But as a rule, you had never entertained a romantic interest in anyone you worked with. Don’t shit where you eat, you remember your father joking on your first morning as part of the workforce. 

It was advice you took to the grave, apparently.

You were about to take your usual seat when Alastor tutted and tapped on the lacquered tabletop with his microphone. When you turned to look up at him, confused, you were met only with his expectant face lilting to the right in silent indication of where he wanted you to sit. 

“I really don’t understand this,” you muttered, apprehensive, but proceeded to sit yourself on the table anyway. You had to stand up on your toes to achieve it, feeling Alastor’s eyes on you the entire time it took you to get up there and settle.

He grabbed the chair next to you and adjusted it slightly before placing it in front of you to sit, causing you to squirm. Alastor was collected as ever, primping himself as if he weren’t practically sitting between your legs. Even with his impressive height, you were looking down at him. Not by much, with how he had raised the chair you were somewhat at eye level, but it was odd all the same. Perhaps even the intention.

Still… you felt anxious. Like waiting for bad news at the doctor’s office. Legs swinging softly over the edge of what might as well be an examination table just to give yourself something to do while you waited for him to speak.

“I couldn’t help but overhear your conversation earlier,” he said, folding his hands in his lap. “For the record, I don’t think that puts you a step away from cannibalism.”

Is that was this was all about? Not that you had any idea of what to expect him to want to talk about, but this topic didn’t bring you any relief. You knew about his proclivities — hell, you were responsible for keeping certain items in stock for him! You shifted a little, feeling more under the scope than ever as he merely stared. The placid smile on his face akin to that of a biding alligator, luring its prey into a false sense of security with inaction.

“I don’t believe you got the chance to speak your peace on the matter,” he continued, voice smooth despite the static overlay. “And I, for one, am curious to hear more. If you’ll indulge me.”

He was right, in the strange way that he always seemed to be. His ability to read people was frightening — a quality you noticed others weren’t nearly as wary of as they should be. Too distracted by his enigmatic reputation and penchant for violence.

The image of a lolling alligator came back, closer to the shore. 

“Well, that really was most of it. I just… enjoy the texture of fruits like that? There’s not much else to say.”

Alastor blinked, one eye then the other, waiting for you to elaborate. But it felt too humiliating to say the rest. 

How you relished the sensation of your teeth piercing the skin, hearing and feeling the pop from serration. Sinking into the soft flesh, juice pooling in your mouth and inevitably down the side of it; dripping from your chin down to the floor. It was one of the few times you allowed yourself to be somewhat messy. Not caring about the juice that dried sticky on your face and hands — a sensory discomfort you couldn’t stand otherwise. It was part of the experience. Something about it tapping into a more primal part of your brain.

There were aspects of this you knew he’d understand, but you had never said these things out loud before. And you could tell that he knew you were holding out. You wouldn’t put it past him to keep you cooped up here for the rest of the day until you relented, and deflated.

Might as well rip off the bandaid…

“I like the way it feels when I bite into them the most.” The words fell out of your mouth, rushed and close together. Feeling much like you were confessing to your parents that you broke the neighbor’s window. 

When he didn’t answer, you began to ramble. The sensations you had just gone over in your head pouring from your mouth in a nervous effort to appease him and get the fuck out of there. You didn’t notice that he had inched closer, or how your legs had unconsciously spread to allow him room to do so. It wasn’t until his hands were on your hips that you snapped out of your babbling, his face the very picture of nonchalant. But his smile…

You were caught.

“That wasn’t so hard now, was it? Don’t you feel better, getting that off your chest?” he mused, thumbs rubbing circles on your hips. “And you’ve never been curious about taking a bite of something else? I’m not so sure.”

You yelped when he pulled you to the edge of the table, your legs on either side of his chest. It was only now that you realized how much the hem of your dress had risen, and you gave yourself a silent prayer of thanks for wearing black stockings today. Exposed as you were, it gave you some comfort that so far only your soul remained bare to him.

“I take my mentoring quite seriously,” he went on, crimson eyes burning holes into your psyche. His eye contact was something you had admired professionally, but withered under now. Heartbeat in your throat as his left hand roamed up to your waist, the right holding fast on your hip. “It seems I’ve overlooked an opportunity in your development. If you’d let me, I’d love to give you a demonstration.”

“Demonstrate what?” The question came out harsh, but he was talking around the subject and you were still trying to figure out how you practically ended up in his lap. Even worse, you couldn’t bring yourself to pull away from him, despite his forwardness, so you put your frustration in your mouth. “And where is this coming from? If this is your idea of flirting, it’s a little direct.”

You had to keep one hand planted on the table to maintain your balance, but you grabbed at the wrist of his hand that had moved to your leg in a futile attempt to hold him still.

Alastor chuckled, delighted, the hand you held now opting to massage the flesh underneath it as his smile widened. “Ooh, you’ve got a bit of a temper! Enchanting.”

He laughed again when you did your best to jab him in the side with your left knee, his kneading hand unrelenting on your thigh. You could feel the heat in your face beginning to trickle down, an ache blossoming between your legs as he leaned in.

“Flirting? I suppose you could call it that. But as for my being direct, as you put it,” his expression was coquettish as he leaned closer still. The tickle of his breath on your face as he spoke, “I just happen to know that this is a method you prefer. Or haven’t you noticed?”

Flashes of interactions played in your mind. While he had never been rude, you couldn’t deny that when you discussed business he was always concise and clear with his directions. There were never any gaps you had to try and fill or ruminate over what was expected of you. Not only did it allow you to get your job done, but to flourish while doing so. To the point where you were able to even anticipate certain needs before they were asked. Something Alastor had been particularly pleased with, which in turn, made you aim to do it more.

Fuck. He was right.

Alastor must have seen the revelation on your face in the way you felt it crumble, ashamed to have been read so easily. In more ways than one, he had you in the palm of his hand.

“There’s no need for all that,” he cooed, “It’s worked out well for us so far, hasn’t it? Think of this as a trust exercise!”

You wriggled against him and looked away, not wholly convinced. “I still don’t understand what the goal is here… You’re only being direct with your hands, not your words.”

If it wasn’t exactly flirting or seduction, what was it, then? Lessons in cannibalism? A shiver down your spine left you with a strange blend of nausea and intrigue. You did your best to ignore the throb you felt in your groin.

“The goal, my dear, is to find out just how far your fascination with biting goes. And before I offer up my own neck, we need to make sure you know what you’re doing. Hence, the demonstration.”

Alastor placed his palm over your mound, using the heel of his hand to grind against your sensitive nub. Your body jerked, the small scream of shock and pleasure that left you echoing in the room. With your hand still wrapped around his wrist, you could feel the way his bones moved under the skin. The sensation of it dueling with the arousal he was drawing from you in a way that replaced your mind with hot air.

“Wha—mm! What are you doing that for?” you managed to ask, breath heavy and face hot with embarrassment.

“My, what a face you’re making,” Alastor teased, leaning forward to lick a stripe up your cheek with his long tongue. His low chuckle rang in your ears, drowning out your own wanton gasp. “But to answer your question, I need to… ripen the fruit, so to speak.”

His hand over your sex emphasized this with a squeeze and you squealed, thighs clenching around his body in reflex. It only served to press him firmer against you, your grip on his wrist quickly becoming your tether to reality as his fingers stroked you over your stockings and panties. It took longer than you’d have liked for his answer to land, alarm bells going off somewhere in the haze that had become your logic.

“You can’t — ahh! You’re gonna bite there?!” 

Alastor laughed but didn’t stop working his fingers. The gaze he set on you was patronizing, but amused. As if you were a child who had unwittingly said something profane or clever. 

“No, darling, not today. That’s a bit much for the first time.” His voice dropped a couple octaves when he continued, leaning in to speak into your ear, “But I’d be happy to indulge you, should you enjoy our little experiment.”

You whimpered, your hand on him tightening as his lips planted a kiss behind your ear. 

He continued to pepper your neck, pausing now and then to tease you with a lick or graze of teeth. All the while his hand remained hard at work, your hips mindlessly rolling into his touch. The sound of your panting and moans harmonized with Alastor’s static, making the air around you heady and alive. Pressure mounting and threatening to spill over like the coil in your belly.

It was so hard to concentrate, feeling so surrounded by him. Alastor’s mouth had now latched onto your neck where it met your shoulder, sucking a bruise you knew would take at least a week to recover from. You didn’t even realize you had been saying his name with nearly every rock of your hips, chasing down your orgasm as he growled against your skin. His own hips grinding himself into nothing but the seat of the chair as his arm wrapped around your back to hold you close. 

The sting of his nails digging into your ribs didn’t even phase you as he gave your neck its first real bite. You cried out, hips stuttering as his tongue soothed over the raw patch of flesh. It hadn’t been strong enough to break the skin, but the rush of heat you felt prickling your neck and cunt was undeniable.

You wanted more.

 “Alastor, please… I’m so close,” you whined, feeling secure enough now to clasp your hands behind his neck. 

Whether it was what you said or how you clung to him, something triggered him to lose his composure, if momentarily. But you feared you would never forget the popping feeling of your stockings breaking under the force of his claw or the sound of tearing fabric that followed. His thumb swept down into your folds to collect your slick before resuming its task, rubbing harsh circles over your clit. The direct contact was almost overwhelming and you keened, high and desperate. Earning a low rumble of satisfaction from him in return.

Soon there was another sensation, something cool and slippery probing your entrance. It pushed forward just as he bit you again, this time on the shoulder. You felt your skin give in, the slightest puncture of his teeth sending a thrill through you. His saliva stung the minor wound, but the appendage working your core was more than a distraction. The lewd sound of your arousal now competing with your mindless cries.

“This is it, darling. Are you ready?” Alastor’s voice was husky and eager, while his eyes threatened to eat you alive. In a sense, he was, and all you could do to answer him was nod your head. 

He ran his tongue over his teeth before he hid his face in your neck again, placing open-mouthed kisses wherever his lips could touch before he settled back over the bruise. You moaned as he lapped at it, his tongue wide and firm, contrasting the pace of his thumb and what you now assumed to be one of his tentacles inside you. The last thing you truly remembered was his mouth parting over your skin. Everything that followed seemed to merge into one.

Was it your climax that urged him to bite down? Or was it the bite that set it off? It was more than possible that they happened in tandem… Alastor always did have impeccable timing. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as your vision went white, the force of your orgasm with the exquisite pain of the bite nearly sending you into unconsciousness. As you began to return to yourself, it felt as if your body had three heartbeats. One in your chest, one in your neck, and one between your hips. 

You were vaguely aware of feeling wet. Sweat had made your clothes stick to your skin, but you could feel it in your lap as well as on your chest and back. The tentacle had retreated from your core and Alastor’s hand was back on your hip, his other still holding you against him as you heaved to catch your breath. He was breathing harshly through his nose, his teeth still buried in you as his mouth siphoned as much of your blood as it could. Your pulse seemed to match the rhythm of his swallowing throat, the early signs of pain beginning to bubble under your skin as your orgasm and adrenaline waned.

But on the whole, you felt incredible. Euphoric. As if your entire body had let go of some unknown burden, it was a delicious relief you knew you’d be chasing for the rest of your afterlife.

After a few moments, Alastor removed himself, blood coating his chin as he smiled up at you. Eyes glazed with an almost drunken glee. “What’s the verdict?”

You leaned down and licked off some of the blood, an absent thought of whether or not it was all yours coming to mind. Though in the end, that wasn’t really important, was it? Especially not when you pulled back to take in his voracious face, ears pinned to his head as his hands gave you a squeeze.

“How soon can we schedule the next trust exercise?”

Alastor chuckled, low and amused. “How proactive you are. We can talk about it while I get you cleaned up.”

✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧     ✧     ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧

banner by @synamartia ❤️‍🔥

tag list: @fairyv-ice, @wat4r, @midorichoco, @raynerrold, @krak-jj, @tremendoushearttaco, @redfoxwritesstuff, @chibistar45, @kaylopolis, @cutiebimbo, @lousypotatoes, @rfox1998, @cosmiccandydreamer, @hyperfixations-keep-me-going, @cherry-cola-100, @wonderlandangelsposts, @catticora, @velvette3, @sailorsmouth, @reath-solia, @junieshohoho, @cxrsedwxrlds, @littlebluefishtail, @alastorthirsty, @nxcxllxsevens, @swagkittybear

[yestrday]

hihi! may i suggest the 2nd years’ reaction to a teasing but easily flustered darling? they’re like a mix of a hiyakasudere (teasedere) and a dandere. long story short, it’s kinda like “oooo you want to kiss me so bad aha” to “WAIT WHY ARE YOU GETTING SO CLOSE” kinda thingy + don’t forget to take care of yourself! don’t forget to drink water and get some rest! :)

hoooly shit this has been in my drafts for so long and i finally had a sudden spark of inspiration to finally finish it. i'm so sorry anon you've waited a terribly long time

now, for the moments where your yandere harem is not-so-yandere and relatively normal-looking

you might like: yan! academy genshin second years

you thought that you'd get to share a nice lunch with your dear friend albedo after he invited you to a nice secluded spot for the both of you to spend lunch together. the food was definitely nice— this is albedo we're talking about after all— but you couldn't help but find yourself pouting. all he had been doing all lunch was sketch away at his papers.

hmph. you think. shouldn't he give me a bit of his attention?

hoping to sneak some sort of reaction out of him, you inch closer to his drawings. he’s never had a problem with you looking at his unfinished work and yet his strong but gentle hand reach out and firmly root you to your position. “don’t move,” he mutters. and then a long period of silence follows, but this time his eyes study every inch of your face and body.

"don't you think you're starin' at me a bit too much?" you croon, flashing one of your mischievous grins at the ever stoic student with the hope of alleviating some of the awkardness you feel. "someone might think you have a crush on me.”

“maybe i do,” he hums. “what about it?” it’s so nonchalant that it’d pass through anyone’s ears as a joke, but you’re so hyper-aware of everything right now that the blush starts rising to your cheeks, gaping at him with an open mouth.

“wh– what?!” you hate how squeaky your voice is.

“oh nothing,” he resumes back to his sketching before he gives you a glance over and smirks at you. “don’t you think you’re blushing too much? someone might think you have a crush on me.”

“a– albedo!”

no one knows how xiao lets you get away with how overly touchy you are. you’re not exactly what they’d imagine to be hanging around xiao. you smile too much, flirt and tease with people, and you drag the boy around to places almost embarassing to be seen at. but xiao follows anyway. one moment he’ll go: “hmph. and why should i?” but when you pout and just whine about going with another boy, he’s immediately latching onto your arm.

you’re aware of how differently xiao treats you and to be honest, you’re a little bit smug. you like to exert your power over him time to time. pushing a little too close or trailing your fingers up his surprisingly toned muscles just to tease him.

“you’re shameful,” he’d huff and look away, but you’re delighted at how his porcelain face turns into a bright cherry shade and continue teasing him anyway.

xiao is aware of this power you have over him, but he doesn’t stop you. he likes this warm and fluttery feeling you overwhelm him with. still, it’d be nice if he could change the tables for a moment and make you stutter and blush instead.

this musing of his is shelved away in his mind until an impromptu study date comes up. poring over your textbooks for the upcoming quiz, you snack away on some nuts to help you concentrate. when xiao looks up, he sees some crumbs on you’re too focused to notice. absentmindedly, he reaches over the table and slides a finger to wipe away the crumbs. you take this the wrong.

“wh- what are you doing?!” you squeak, face blaring red. “we’re studying, you know!”

he hushes you. “hold still.”

he brings the finger to his mouth and licks up the food, confused at your shock and embarassment but no questioning it. he sits back down and resumes his studies while you spend the rest of the session covering your face with a book and fanning your face. xiao remains ever oblivious as he focuses on passing the test, unaware that his wish has already been granted.

kazuha takes your flirtatious advances seriously, because well, romance and love must be taken seriously. somewhere in the back of his mind he can sense that you’re just joking... still, let kazuha delude himself for a tiny bit.

all flirty remarks of yours are responded with sincere and genuine exclamations of love which has you blushing and running away with every encounter with him. you don’t even know why you bother anymore, but perhaps it’s the urge to see the ever so calm and serene kazuha lose his composure because of you.

it’s for the sake of blushy kazuha! you pump yourself up before pushing open the classroom doors. the boy idles by the window sill, away from the chatter of your classmates. your presence immediately has him perking up and smiling at you from across the room. you take a deep breath and close your eyes.

be still, be confident. you’re gonna get him today! 

“hi kazu~” you grin, sauntering over to him with brimming confidence. “your most favorite person is here!” you open your mouth, planning to pour out another set of cheesy pick-up lines and compliments, but kazuha reacts quicker.

“indeed, you are here right now,” he says in nigh reverence. he takes a stray lock from your hair and twirls it around his finger. “i’ve missed you over the weekend, you know?” he kisses it and smiles at you. the morning sun lights his face aglow, and the wind brushing past the window makes his hair flutter along with your heart. “oh, [your name]? you’re redder than a maple leaf.”

steam puffs out of your ears at being called out, and you stumble back, glaring at him. “i-i’ll get you one day, kazu! i swear i will!” and when you make a tactical retreat, kazuha only laughs to himself before fondly kissing the finger that held your lock of hair so tenderly.

you honestly thought that thoma would be the easily flustered type, but he's really not. it's always the same reaction out of him: you flirt, he stops, stares, and his lips crack into a brilliant yet amused smile. your charms, that have flawlessly worked on both me and women, are received like an elder brother witnessing their sibling's antics.

it makes your blood boil! really! the audacity of this guy to just shrug off your remarks when you're already growing desperate to get a reaction out of him! you up your charisma, bat your lashes more, but no, nada! it makes you a bit insecure— juuuust a little. is your allure starting to wane?

you're sulkily poking at your lunchbox, too caught up with your little dilemma to actually eat. thoma notices from across you, and his brows pinch together in concern as he regards your expression.

"is everything okay, [your name]?" he asks softly, placing a gentle hand on yours to let you know he's there. "you don't seem to have an appetite today. is the lunchbox i made not up to your liking?"

you might be sulking, but archon forbid you make thoma think his cooking wasn't up to standard! you frantically shake your head, before settling down and letting out a sigh.

"thoma~" you let out a whine, grasping his hand on yours with both of yours. you pout as prettily as you can, letting the lips you meticulously glossed this morning do their job, bat your lashes, and doing everything and anything you can in your power to turn it up a hundred times more. "be honest with me. do you find me pretty at all?"

his eyes widen at the question. "o– of course, i do, [your name]! there's no one in this school who doesn't find you attractive." something dark flickers in his eyes for a moment as he mutters lowly. "believe me."

that shadow disappears as soon as it comes, and squeezes your hands reassuringly. "more than just being attractive, i like you for who you are." his soft green eyes crease downward in a fond look, and you think your heart is racing a hundred miles per second. "i'm here with you, aren't i?"

you do your utmost best to respond, but your tongue fails you. your brain has short-circuited, and you can barely hear anything than the pounding of your heart and the muffled worried calls of your name. you slump in your seat, steam coming out of your brain and dizzy from the heartburn. you are defeated at your game.

there are advantages and disadvantages to flirting with the scaramouche. when you shoot him one of your teasing remarks or sidle a bit too close to his side, the people around you look at you like you're crazy.

and you are. you're crazy obsessed with his reactions, how sardonic and dry-humor they are but so cute and feisty. so what if his glares keep getting scarier and scarier, if his lips curl up in a sneer whenever he sees you. you don't waste a single moment in trying to get a reaction out of him!

"hey, scara~♪" your head pops out from the corner while he's busy with his locker, and glances at you before resuming with his work. "you're as cute as ever as always!"

"and i can see that you still insist on being annoying," he says plainly, before slamming his locker shut and fixing you with his signature dirty glare. "when will you stop bothering me, or do i have to put up with your nonsense until graduation?"

"only if you'll have me~"

"idiot," he scoffs. "to be disturbing me like this day in and day out. you have some nerve, [last name]. are you really that keen on breaking my peace? or—" he studies your face carefully, before a smug smile breaks out on his lips. "are you really that obsessed with me?"

your mind blanks out at the sudden accusation and you can feel the heat rising in your face. "o–obsessed with you? don't be absurd! i– you– you're not the only one, you know! don't get too full of yourself." your face reddens further as his smirk only grows, and you stomp your foot childishly. "believe me!"

"tut, tut, [last name]. you won't get further in this society if you wear your hearts on a sleeve like that. but don't worry." he lifts your chin up with a slender finger, and as much as that knowing grin of his is humiliating, you can't help but appreciate how alluring the expression is on him. "since you're so obsessed with me, i don't mind letting a commoner like you live under my care when the time calls for it."

[puppyxprincess]

Training Logs, Entry #2

6/23/24

I’m happy to report that her training has been a continued success.

The subject is eagerly submissive to me, her dedication grows in intensity with every passing day.

Our baseline levels of trust have far exceeded my expectations for her, which I attribute to her sharp judge of character. She has deemed me “safe” and has in turn, handed herself over to me willingly. I’m gaining a strong appreciation for subjects so happy to be trained.

I just concluded a rather impromptu training session, the subject requested I ask her some questions to further my knowledge on hypnosis, utilizing her existing stores of information on the subject. She suggested i drop her, making her incredibly tired and deep in trance before asking these questions, to see if she could recall our conversation in full.

At first I was intimidated, I must be transparent. An impromptu session stripped away my ability to be prepared for anything, to have my goals and path mapped out, my triggers pre-planned, all of it, gone. I almost told her no, I wasn’t feeling up to it, I couldn’t possibly engage in anything successfully. Better to wait than risk damaging progress, damaging her faith in my abilities, is how i reasoned with myself.

But something possessed me. Maybe it was the two drinks i’d just finished, maybe it was my intuition, my unwillingness to let the opportunity slip out of my hands.

I agreed to her request, how could i deny an eager puppy the chance to train?

I set up my equipment and took a deep breath. I began my greetings, already donning that syrupy, lilting tone reserved near exclusively for her, and I hoped inspiration would strike me.

I asked about her favorite inductions, how to decide on one, how to avoid falling into routine and allowing it to become predictable.

She began to explain using some comparison to a math concept I couldn’t really grasp, but I began to understand her point when an idea appeared to me.

Previously, my pet had mentioned to me that the bell jingling on my cat’s collar worked as an “ears perked” sort of effect. Instantly capturing her focus and drawing it to my words.

I removed the cat’s collar and shook gently it a few times near the mic. The puppy immediately lost her words, it was so wonderful to see. I prompted the pet to continue, but only let her get a few words out before i let the bell chime again. She lost her train of thought, immediately becoming focused on the sound of the bell, her thoughts slipping from her mind.

It was hard not to laugh, seeing the composed, intellectual subject immediately reduced to a brainless puppy. The efficacy was truly shocking.

I took the opportunity to wield her focus against her, knowing her predisposition would be to go deeper, to agree with anything i might suggest.

“Do you even remember the point you were trying to make?”

“Can you even answer my questions, pup?” The subject clung to the explanation that she could, but that she was just so focused on me, it was hard to let anything else take precedence.

“Doesn’t it seem like it would be so much nicer to put all that aside and be a Silly Puppy for me instead?”

At this point, her responses consisted only of an eager “mhm!” or two, if she was feeling very excited by the suggestion.

I interspersed the jingling bell over any pauses, increasing her focus on me each time. This began to work so well she stopped being able to respond. At this point, I asked the subject if she’d prefer to remain under and fall asleep, or if I should bring her back up. She requested “Up,” so after a few more moments i began to bring her out of trance.

The subject was still dazed when she began to communicate her amazement at my insecurity, even going as far as to ask if I had been joking, fully aware of my ability to drop her so quickly and effectively.

I laughed, assuring her that the entire session had been unprepared, allowing my ego to swell at the high praise from my far-more-experienced subject.

Over a brief discussion of the session, as my pet spoke to me, I couldn’t resist the urge to use the bell against her again. She slipped back down easily, blindly obedient once more.

After playing with my favorite subject a bit more, I brought her back to herself, and had to force myself to stay quiet. Every time I opened my mouth I pushed her back into that sharp focus and her brain into a state of arousal that rendered her unable to sleep.

One of the last things we talked about before I finally allowed her to rest was how towards the very beginning, when she first lost her train of thought, she found it difficult to grasp what she had been speaking about even once out of trance.

Something of note regarding this pet is that she has often recounted how ineffective memory impacting trances have been for her, likely due to her history of hypervigilance and perceived need to protect herself. Communicating that my spontaneous session may have allowed even a small memory to slip out of her grasp has emboldened me to try again and test my skills with a more overt memory play session with her.

It definitely serves my purposes that she’s so eager to hand over full control to me, not one ounce of doubt or distrust towards me present in her pretty little mind.

My next goal has been set: Make the puppy forget something.

I think it will prove easy enough.

[seoulzie]

daydreams & doodles

WHEREIN: huening mindlessly doodles on your arm pairing: college!hyuka x gn!reader genre: fluff warning: none (i think..)

the sun streamed through the classroom windows, casting warm patterns on the desks. you sat in the middle row, absently tapping your pen against your notebook. today’s lesson was a blur, the teacher’s voice a distant hum.

next to you, huening kai was equally disengaged, his focus not on the blackboard but on your arm.

you glanced at him, a small smile playing on your lips as he gently took your arm and started doodling. his concentration was adorable, his tongue slightly poking out as he drew tiny stars, hearts, and little animals. each stroke was light and delicate, the ink forming whimsical patterns on your skin.

“hey, what’s that supposed to be?” you whispered, trying to suppress a giggle.

huening looked up, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “it’s a surprise,” he whispered back, a grin spreading across his face.

as he continued, you found yourself watching him more than paying attention to the lesson. the way his brow furrowed in concentration, the slight curve of his lips as he enjoyed his impromptu art session – it was all endearing.

suddenly, the classroom fell silent. you snapped your head up to see the teacher standing directly in front of you both, arms crossed and eyebrows raised. huening froze, the marker still poised over your arm. the teacher’s stern gaze swept over the two of you, making your cheeks flush with heat.

“mr. huening,” the teacher said, her voice carrying a hint of amusement, “i don’t believe doodling on your classmate is part of the curriculum.”

a ripple of laughter spread through the classroom. huening kai’s face turned a deep shade of red, his eyes wide with embarrassment. he quickly pulled his hand away, trying to hide the marker behind his back.

“i’m sorry, mrs. lee,” he stammered, his voice barely above a whisper.

mrs. lee’s expression softened, and she sighed, shaking her head with a small smile. “just try to focus on the lesson, both of you,” she said, her tone gentle. “and maybe save the artwork for after class.”

as she walked away, the laughter died down, and the class resumed its usual rhythm. you looked over at huening, who was still blushing furiously, avoiding your gaze. you nudged him gently with your elbow.

“hey, it’s okay,” you said softly. “i like your doodles.”

he glanced at you, a shy smile tugging at his lips. “really?”

“really,” you assured him, holding up your arm to admire the little drawings. “they’re cute. just like you.”

he peeked at you, a shy smile tugging at his lips. "thanks," he mumbled. "sorry for getting you in trouble."

"it's fine, hyuka" you assured him. "besides, i kind of like being your canvas."

huening's blush deepened, but he couldn't help but chuckle. "maybe next time, i'll just stick to paper," he said, giving you a sheepish grin.

© 2024 seoulzie

[sixflame438]

Again and Again

Synopsis - Its your first fansign event and you receive unwanted comments. Your girlfriend comforts you backstage but then your members catch you in a moment.

Pairing - Hong Eunchae x 6th lsfm!reader

Tags - Angst, fluff, rude “fans”, secret and established relationship, kinda iffy tbh, possible errors, kissing, a lil bit of swearing at the end

A/N - [Request] Lowkey Eunchae oppa agenda, lets pretend lsfm didnt have any fansign events before antifragile era mk? There is a prequel fic that happens before the events of this one, its short and more fluffier than this one imo [Part 1]

Wordcount - 2890

You loved being an idol. You loved singing, you loved dancing, you loved making people happy through what you did and you most definitely loved meeting you fans. But not this. This was not what you signed up for. Youd guess it was probably the 6th person thats done this today.

Each time was the same. They would get to the seat in front of yours , give you a judgy look filled with disgust and proceed to berate you and tell you how worthless you are compared to your members and that the group would be better off without you. And of course, that hurt. The first 2 times were easy to brush off but with it happening again and again? Well, you were only so strong.

Some would do it quietly as to not draw attention to themselves but some didnt even care enough to do so, yelling like dads with beers by the bbq. Security would come drag them away but this didnt matter much as you were last on the table, theyd have to leave anyway.

As the timer rang for the next rotation, you subtly called over your manager, signalling for a timeout. Luckily she was a sweet kind lady who quickly noticed the tears pooling in your eyes. With the nod of approval you silently got up and left for your break room, not wanting anyone to notice your discomfort or waterworks. As intended nobody did, except for one.

It was funny, you and her were on the opposite ends of the table. How she managed to notice and kazuha (who was next to you but didnt realise until you were gone) wouldve baffled you but you were too in your head to care.

Muffled noises were all you could hear as the world around you became muted. You could barely make out the event coordinator telling your group to have an impromptu photo session with the fans and the same fans screaming in excitement.

Being an idol was all you had ever wanted. You loved singing, you loved dancing and debuting in Le Sserafim was a dream come true. You were confident in your abilities and knew you always tried putting your all into every performance. But was it enough? What if the haters were right?

You were well aware of the comments circulating the internet, it was hard not to notice them. And although you didnt want to believe it, you could see why people thought what they did. Like just look at your groups lineup.

Huh Yunjin, a professionally trained opera singer and amazing song writer and producer as shown when “Raise Y_our Glass” was released to celebrate your groups 100th day and Kazuha Nakamura, a professional ballet dancer of 15 years before joining the group, who even trained at a national ballet academy.

If those two werent already cool enough you also had Kim Chaewon and Sakura Miyawaki in your group too, both beloved and popular members of the former popular girl group Iz*one. Not to mention how Sakura was basically Japans sweetheart, everyone and their parents knew about her. Your members had past merits and achievements with proof to show for but you? You were just you.

You who debuted in only 18 months. But was that enough? You were good at dancing and singing, had a stunning face card and had great charisma but it all felt like an understatement when compared to your groupmates.

You would be a liar if you said that was everyone in your group though as in through your assigned break room walked the final member. Your favourite person in the whole wide world, the groups adorable maknae or lesser known as your beloved girlfriend.

You and Eunchae met as trainees under the same label. Being more reserved and barely speaking unless prompted made it hard to make any friends but what started as small nods of acknowledgement and morning greetings turned into quiet conversations during breaks.

Obviously Eunchae was the one to come up to you first and if you had to pick someone to talk to in amongst the group of strangers you were training with, you’d always pick her. Even before she came up to you, it was apparent that everyone wanted to befriend her.

Her cheerful sunshine demeanour naturally drew you in and it definitely helped that she was easy to talk to. Slowly over time your friendship grew and so did you. The two of you were inseparable and there was never a moment apart, everything was done together and it was just the way you liked it.

Every monthly evaluation, every critique, every failure. She helped you through your time as a trainee, constantly helping you use the feedback you received to improve on your skills. And of course you were there for Eunchae too, never failing to cheer her up after a hard day of training.

To anyone else you were just besties as the clinginess could easily be excused to how touchy Eunchae was with any and everyone. Wrong, but theyd never know that.

You genuinely believed that if it werent for Eunchaes radiant positivity, you would’ve never gotten through being a trainee and you wouldve never debuted together.

“Hey baby” she said cautiously as she approached, careful not to scare or overwhelm you any more.

You were curled up on the couch, arms around your legs, knees up to your face. Shaking and bawling with tears.

“Whats wrong sweetheart?” The only response was more crying.

Eunchae could feel her heart chipping away with every shake and choked out sob you let out. She had an idea about what had led you to this moment, she had seen the comments too.

They were nasty, downright diabolical things someone should never say to anyone. It was cruel, harmful and completely wrong. How people thought they could say things like this and have them backed up was something Eunchae would never understand.

“There were people hic calling me names and hic saying things about me and hic saying I dont belong in the group” you choked out painfully between each point. Eunchae couldn’t believe it. To post hateful comments online was one thing but to tell them to the idol herself? The audacity some people had.

The worst part was this was happening to you and only you. Maybe her other members had a few issues too but Eunchae had none. Everything was smooth sailing and perfect from her perspective so to know that you werent having the same crushed her.

“Theyre also saying that im worthless hic and that the groups better off hic without someone like me and hic and-“ You couldn’t even continue. The tears were blurring your vision and it was getting hard to speak so you just gave up trying. Exactly like the netizens wanted.

Eunchae had heard enough. Clearly there was more to be said but she didn’t want to know. You didnt deserve any of the atrocious comments. You didn’t deserve the threats and insults. And someone as sweet and kind as you didnt deserve the hate. It was unjustified.

You had long since dropped your legs when you started explaining and Eunchae took that opportunity to climb onto your lap, sitting up nice and close. Cradling your face with her hands, Eunchae used her thumbs to wipe away the running tears, drawing your attention away from your shoes and up to her face.

“Hey baby listen to me alright? The comments? Theyre wrong. All completely lies made up because theyre mad. Mad youre better than them in so many ways.”

“They cant help but be envious of you because well look at you. Youre talented, hardworking and absolutely jaw droppingly gorgeous. Are they the ones that preform on stage in front of thousands? No. Thats you. Do those scummy douchebags have thousands of fans worldwide supporting them? No. Thats you. And yes it is a group effort but you are playing your part. “

“You aren’t worthless or ugly or better off like they claim, youre more than they will ever be and you’ve already achieved more than they have. Plus who are they to say anything about you? Theyre probably lazy, unhygienic, haters who are single asf and have no bitches.”

“Dont ever let someone as unrelevant as that say anything about you alright? They know nothing about the effort you put into this and trust me, youre beautiful and funny girlfriend, when I say that you are just so amazing. No one can ever compare and im really proud to call you mine.”

“Sure maybe our unnies have already done things before that doesn’t mean we aren’t capable of doing those things too. Its my first time debuting too and this is the start of our journey, theres plenty of time to prove ourselves. If you ever feel lost again, remember that you’ve got me okay? And the unnies. And piona. There will always be people supporting you no matter what.”

“Chae…”

“Hush my baby its okay ive got you” she says as she wraps herself around you, running her hand through your hair to soothe and calm you down.

It was funny how different the roles were in your relationship. Even though you were older it was always as if Eunchae was your unnie instead, always caring and trying to take care of you. Of course you did the same for her too but she became a different person when it was just you two alone.

Despite internet thoughts Eunchae was quite mature, often sounding like Chaewon or Sakura at times. You guess its probably due to how close everyone was and how theyre the parental figures of the group. If Eunchae was the groups maknae, you were hers.

“Lets dry off the tears now yeah? They cover your eyes too much and i like them best when youre happy. You’re beautiful you know that?”

You did know, she told you almost everyday. But that didnt stop your heart from fluttering any differently. The warmth from your closeness and the comforting words had you smiling like a lovesick fool. Absolutely smitten or just stupid in love if you will.

“Yeah i do. Thanks pumpkin I really appreciate it” you say with a small smile. It wasnt as bright as it could be but it was a start.

Eunchae just nods with content, as if her life’s purpose had been fulfilled and she could now rest peacefully. Like a true oppa gentlemen she gracefully picks up your hand and delicately places a kiss on the back. Then your wrist, shoulder, cheek and awaiting lips.

They were feather light touches with that lingering tickly effect making you squirm a little.

“Chae stop kissing me” you whine with a pout but still giggling as you try to stop her from kissing you while you were still a mess.

“I cant help it, seeing you smile like that makes it hard not to” she says with a childish grin.

You cant help but giggle to yourself again. It was so innocent, so adorable and absolutely what you fell for in the first place.

Eunchae hooks her arms around your neck as she leans in again for a longer kiss, this time with more appreciation and pure admiration.

Hands holding Eunchae steady, you smile into the kiss, going with the motions. You would always love your girlfriend for everything she did. You loved her then, you love her now and there was nothing stopping you from loving her in the future either.

Your dreaming is cut short though when you hear a loud, high pitched shriek coming from across the room.

“EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEK”

Startled you look towards the now open door and the 4 figures standing in the entrance.

“YUNJIN”

“Youre gonna give us away idiot”

“Crap sorry”

“Too late dumbass”

You stared back at your members with wide eyes. Shocked was an understatement. How much did they see? In a hurry you tried to lift your girlfriend off your lap but she wouldnt budge, gripping onto you tighter like a koala. Eunchae wasnt phased. She didnt care you got caught, it was about time anyway.

“Hi Unnies” Eunchae says casually as if they didnt just walk in on something important.

“Care to tell us whats going on” your leader asks accusingly with raised eyebrows.

“Shitty people said some even more fucked up things to yn, so im cheering her up”

“Hong Eunchae language” Chaewon scolded angrily, clearly upset over something. Either that being the youngest swearing or the discovery that the second youngest was receiving hate comments.

“I dont care. They cant just go and make my Yn sad like that. She deserves nothing but happiness” the maknae replies resolute in her words.

“My yn?”

“How long?”

“Over a year” you say meekly, finally choosing to join the conversation

“WHATTTTTTT”

“WAIT THATS SO CUTE”

The simultaneous loud responses overwhelm you a little as you wince further into your seat.

“Are you guys not mad?”

“No why would we be?”

“I am, very.” Yunjin says with a faux stern face.

“Oh” is all you say as your heart drops, tensing and panicking on the inside.

“Oh no no im not actually mad im kidding”

Relief washes through as you let out a held gasp of air, head falling back onto the couch. Maybe if you hadnt had a meltdown just before you wouldve called her out on her tomfoolery.

“Why didnt you tell us earlier?” Questions the ballerina, her head tilting sideways as she always did when she was confused.

Sensing that you werent going to respond Eucnahe quickly chimed in. “Uhm we dont really have a good reason to be fair but we didnt know if you guys wouldve been okay with it and we just never got around to saying anything”

You could see some nods coming from the group but knowing your group you were bound to get pounced with more questions later.

“Unacceptable so you guys have been secretly dating this entire time and weve known nothing. Im being lied to by my own children” cries the group producer, her head now laying on kazuhas shoulder pretending to weep and cry.

“Yunjin unnie youre so dramatic”

Sakura, ever the timely person and mother of the group quickly draws attention to the matter at hand. “This has been quite the discovery but breaks ending in 5 mins we should probably go back out soon. You can all talk about it later”

“Dammit man. Urgh whatever when the singing is over i want answers and every detail you hear me?” Yunjin asserts pointing at you and Eunchae on the couch as she walks out.

Each member leaves the room and its when you hear them talking outside that you realise Chaewon didnt say much about you and Eunchae. Now you were back to being worried, mentally preparing yourself for an explosive outburst later when you got back to the dorms. Breaking you from your thoughts, Kazuha pokes her head around the door.

“You guys are really cute btw” she says with her signature smile, exuding calm and warmth before she went back on her way to the stage. Such a precious soul.

The comment helps to ease your worry but before you can keep thinking about it Eunchae places another kiss on lips.

“Hey dont worry about it, its just the members. They love us just the same with or without relationship.”

“Lets show the haters that no matter how much they talk it wont matter because which group are you in?”

You chuckle to yourself knowing whats coming before replying back to Eunchae like she was an army general.

“Le Sserafim!”

“And what are you?”

“An idiot sandwich!”

“No youre not! What are you?”

“Im fearless!”

“Haha thats my girl.” Eunchae replies as she gives your shoulder a nudge. Her bubbly personality (the one shown on screen) taking its place to lighten the mood.

“Can you give me a minute?”

Your girlfriend nods, removing herself from your lap and leaving to go wait by the door.

You use the time to collect yourself, quickly brushing your hair with your hands and touching up your make up with the supplies left from earlier. Taking one last glance at your reflection you leave, content with the way you were. You weren’t going to let a few bad comments get in the way of what could be an amazing day.

“Ready to go?”

“Yeah lets go” You reply with a smile, as you link your arm with Eunchaes, walking down the hallway going towards the stage.

Its not possible to have everyone like you and you knew that. Not everyone was going to have the overwhelming support someone like Chaewon and Sakura had and there was always going to be fan favourites like Eunchae.

But you were content and grateful for what you had. A group of fantastic members, a supportive family, tons of loving fans (the true ot6 supporters) and of course your wonderful girlfriend.

You loved Eunchae and it was apparent why everyone loved Eunchae so much too. You were 1 of millions but it was you she chose. And you knew, at the bottom of your heart, that even if no one did, shed always choose you. Again and again.

[byhees]

casual affection.

엔하이픈 ・ female reader + word count 700 genre fluff established relationship warnings not proof-read kissing skinship — more

a/n. blank

heeseung

would help you dry your hair after a long day; it’d be the late hours of the night, and he’d stand by the edge of the bed, hairdryer in one hand, brush in another.

makes it a point to kiss you, on the lips, before you two part on your own ways in the early mornings; slips a little playful comment before seeing you off.

would often put an arm around your shoulder, lightly pulling you close to his side with a small smile that almost goes unnoticed.

regularly picks up your favourite snacks on the way home, to the point where the cashier at the convenience store recognises the usual.

jongseong

would learn the lyrics to your all-time favourite songs, so you two can sing them together as an impromptu karaoke session.

holds your hand in almost every situation, finding it comforting to intertwine fingers with you, hands moulding together like perfect puzzle pieces.

cooks two servings when making food, because he doesn’t want you to come home empty-stomached.

keeps an extra hoodie at the backseat of his car, because he knows of your habit of forgetting, and doesn’t want to see you cold on a chilly day.

jaeyun

would change the lyrics of a song, so that it says your name instead; finds your delayed reaction and realisation adorable.

leaves some of your favourite shirts of his aside, and comes up with silly excuses to let you keep them.

brushes stray strands of hair out of your face, and takes the opportunity to leave a peck on, either, your forehead or your lips.

always slips his heat pack in the pocket of your jacket, not wanting you to freeze in the particularly snowy weather.

sunghoon

would be your personal alarm, waking you up to prevent any oversleeping for important events; tells you you’re the most beautiful girl in the world, and ruffles your already tousled hair.

helps you put on a necklace; his hands leave feathery touches on your neck, and as he hooks the chain to the clasp, he has the cutest grin plastered on his face.

takes candid pictures of you when you’re in your element, and uses them as his lock screen.

would rub your back when you’re feeling down; additionally, he whispers sweet consolations and peppers your face with kisses.

seonwoo

would help you remove your makeup, and any large hair accessories, when you’re feeling tired from a long day; does so without any hesitation, despite being fatigued himself.

offers his shoulder for you to rest your head on; soft conversations as he gently caresses your palm, fiddling with your fingers.

draws a bath for you, and even prepares your favourite playlists.

gives you handmade gifts, even without a specific occasion; dedicates a good hour or two to folding origami pieces, and making cards.

jungwon

would send you heaps of pictures of his dog whenever you’re away, hoping that they’d serve as an energy boost for tiring days.

brings around a polaroid camera nearly everywhere he goes, because he loves snapping pictures of you; keeps his personal favourites at the back of his phone.

buys you flowers when you least expect it; always writes a short and sweet note with each ‘flower delivery’, something quirky like ‘if you were a flower, i would pick you, one thousand (and one) percent!’

a hand is always absentmindedly resting on your lower back, because he just likes being by your side.

riki

would tuck your blanket neatly around your body when it slides down, and press a kiss on your forehead, wishing you sweet dreams.

hypes you up for even the small things, and is there 24/7 to support you; movie marathons and late-night talks under the covers afterwards to hear how things went.

lightly bumps your shoulder whenever you say something funny; it soon escalates to chaotic, yet unified, cackling and wheezing (but it’s so oddly comforting).

buries his face into the crook of your neck when hugging.

taglist open! @halcyoni-ki @wondipity @yjjungwon @shysakuno @niktwazny303 @crxzs @g4m3girl @minhosify @haechansbbg @yeomha @stepout-09-15 @chansburgah @sona-verse01 networks! @kflixnet @enhanet @k-labels

[cowgurrrl]

Okayyy bear with me, this for our OFTM! What about a celeb who meets actress!reader at some awards or something or they’ve worked together and the pictures turn out so gorgeous and he uploads it with some cheesy lovey dovey caption and it kinda sets Joel off with jealousy and a bigggg green eyed monster. It doesn’t help that Tommy, Ellie, and Sarah start pulling his leg in their fam group chat saying oh wow look at mom with him or something and y��know tommy would pull his leg more to get a reaction out of Joel. And Joel is just alternating between fighting for his life in the chat and fighting for his wife with actress!reader and just comedy and fluffiness????

(also I have one more inspo that I dreamt of sending you in the next one)

OOOOOHHHH LOVE THIS I haven’t played around with jealous joel in SUCH A LONG TIME also I know you weren’t necessary referring them but I immediately thought of Jessica Chastain and Oscar Isaac because I MEAN

ANYWAYS HERE WE GO

Wildflower & Barley

Pairing: rockstar!joel miller x actress!reader

Summary: this ask

Warnings: ✨multi-media✨, jealousy, life stuff, literally just them being the sweetest couple

You sigh as you read the text. Joel is normally very comfortable in your relationship, unshaken by the various actors and actresses who’ve played your love interests and partners on screen. He shrugs off silly press comments, sits through love scenes remarkably well, and even goes as far as congratulating your costar on a job well done. “Not that it’s hard to pretend to be in love with her,” he said when asked about it in a red carpet interview a few years ago. But, once in a blue moon, he gets jealous and a little insecure. You figure Spencer’s post didn’t help with the little green monster sitting on his shoulder the past few months. 

With all your littles in school now, you’re extremely busy. You’re constantly running around from baseball practices, PTA meetings, recitals, doctor’s appointments, birthday parties, and more. Not to mention making time for all the Miller-Hernandez-Caradonna-Pierce grandkids, Isaac, Cecilia, and JJ. Joel’s working on a new album and getting his record label up and running while you’re not only directing and co-producing a smaller film while acting in a different one and getting ready to go on a (limited) press tour. You and Joel haven’t had the most time to catch up, and it feels like you’re passing ships. It’s temporary. You know it is, but it doesn’t feel good to see your costars more than you get to see your husband. You’re almost positive Joel’s jealousy stems from that. 

“Hey, you ready to get back to it?” Your co-producer, Ava, asks, jolting you out of your thoughts, and you nod. 

“Let’s do it.” You say as you tuck your phone into your back pocket. The day goes relatively smoothly with only one broken prop and an impromptu refresher session with one of your actors and the armorer. You make it a point to end the day early so you can get home and talk to Joel before one of you can fall asleep on the couch (a bad habit you’ve both developed recently), and thank god you did. 

The second you open the door, you can smell the delicious dinner Joel is making in the kitchen and hear the music he’s blasting through the Alexa. “Mom!” Sammy yells as he and the girls run over in a flurry of overlapping stories and demands for hugs and kisses. Even though Sam is nine now and on the cusp of thinking he’s too cool for his parents, he’s still your little love bug. 

“Mommy, will you come draw with me?” Violet asks and you smile as you tuck a curl behind her ear.

“Of course, baby. Can I go say hi to Daddy first?” 

“Fine but hurry!” Violet whines, making you laugh. You hang up your purse by the front door and toe off your shoes, already feeling better with your heels off, and pad into the kitchen. Joel is wearing the apron you got him for Christmas last year that says “Caution: Hot Dad” and made the older girls groan in embarrassment. You laugh when you see it on him, and he quickly turns down the Bee Gees to hear you. 

“You’re home early.” He says as he leans down to peck your lips and wrap an arm around your waist. You chase his lips and kiss him again before pulling away to look at him.

“Wanted to catch you before bedtime,” you say, and he hums. “Plus, we’re making good time on production. We can afford to cut a little early.”

“Well, I‘m glad you did.” He says. You can hear the kids in the other room playing loudly and you know Violet is gonna burst in any moment and order you to draw with her so you savor the semi-private moment with him.

“Are we okay?” You ask quietly and he takes a deep breath. 

“We’re okay.” 

“It’s okay if we’re not.” 

“Baby,” he soothes, slipping a hand in your back pocket. “We’re okay, I promise. I just… had a moment.” 

“It’s fine to have a moment. I don’t want you to keep that from me just because we’re busy,” you say. “You don’t actually think I’d trade you in for someone else or whatever the fuck Tommy said, right?” He sighs and you raise your eyebrows at him.

“Just… please tell me this isn’t like a Mr. and Mrs. Smith thing.” He says. You would laugh if he didn’t seem as upset as he does just because of how bizarre the idea is. How could anyone ever compare to him? How could he even think that you’d leave him like that?

“This isn’t a Mr. and Mrs. Smith thing. Not even close to it. Spencer has been married to his wife longer than we’ve been married and they’re solid. I promise, he just posted that to get people excited about the movie.”

“You’re not wearing your ring in the picture.” He says. You pull the chain hiding under your collar out and show him.

“I was. You just couldn’t see it.” 

“How long have you had that?” 

“Since we got engaged. You’ve definitely seen it before.” You say, laughing a little at the surprised look on his face. 

“Yeah, but I didn’t know that’s why you wore it. I thought you got it as a wrap gift or somethin’.” He defends. It makes sense why he wouldn’t know. You only take the necklace off when it can’t be hidden under the costume, and even then, it’s normally tucked into your pocket or, at the very least, hidden safely in your trailer. It’s a part of your routine to put your ring back on at the end of a shooting day or between breaks to help you transition back into your real life, which means Joel only sees it after it’s returned to its rightful spot. Even the few times he’s been on set filming something with you, you’ve been so busy that he didn’t have time to notice it. 

“Good to know I can still surprise you all these years later,” you say. He only looks a little embarrassed when he reaches around you to turn off the stove. The kids are, thankfully, still occupied, and you take the opportunity before it can slip away. “Joel, I adore you. I am still as helplessly in love with you as I was when we were in New York for the first time. There isn’t anybody else for me, okay? It’s you. It’s always gonna be you. So you don’t need to worry about costars or living Brangelina or whatever because you are it for me.” He works at his jaw as he processes your words, and you wait. Joel’s mind has always been an elusive one, so you like watching his gears turn. 

“Okay,” he mumbles finally. “I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to be sorry. You just have to tell me when you’re feeling this way,” you say, kissing his jaw. “Besides, if you’d said something earlier, I would’ve been able to tell you that you’re a much better kisser than Spencer.”

“I was just gettin’ over the post, and now I have to watch y’all kiss?!” He groans dramatically, and you laugh. 

“You’re the one who married an actor.” 

“And I’d do it again.” He says as he kisses you, crowding your space so you’re stuck between him and the counter. It’s broken between giggles and kitchen timers beeping but it isn’t until Violet tugs at your shirt do you fully break away from Joel.

“Mommy, you said you would come draw with me.” She pouts, and you immediately drop down to her level.

“I’m so sorry, baby. I did say that. Daddy just had a hard day so I was trying to cheer him up. I can come draw with you now.” You explain, and she gasps, looking between you and Joel.

“Daddy!” She exclaims, putting her hands on her hips. “Why didn’t you tell me you were having a bad day?” 

“Because it’s not your job to fix Daddy’s day.” 

“But I want to! Can I give you a kiss?”

“I wanna give Daddy a kiss!” Sophia runs in, launching herself into Joel’s arms. He scoops both girls up and kiss his cheeks simultaneously, making you both laugh. 

“Thank you, girls. You always make me feel better.” He says, and they giggle.

“What about Mom?” Sam asks. He’s too big and too tall for you to pick him up anymore, but he snuggles perfectly under your arm and squeezes you tight. 

“You’re so sweet, honey. Thank you.” You say, kissing his head. 

“Are you better now?”

“So much better.” 

“Daddy, are you better?” Violet asks. Joel meets your eyes over the heads of the kids and smiles. It’s sweet and just for you, and you can’t help but smile back. 

“I’m perfect.”

[lumiambrose]

yoichi x reader, fluff, baking together :>

yoichi loves to cook with you. he's not a master chef, but he enjoys the process of making meals together, laughing over failed attempts and celebrating your successes. it's not just about the food, but the fun and bonding that comes with it. he especially loves baking desserts, decorating them together, and sharing the sweet treats while watching a movie.

the kitchen is filled with the sweet aroma of freshly baked goods, a delightful contrast to the flour and bits of dough scattered across the countertops. you and yoichi are in the middle of one of your impromptu cooking sessions, the kind that starts with a simple craving and evolves into a delightful, chaotic, mess.

yoichi, with his sleeves rolled up with flour sprinkled across his cheeks, is whisking together a mixture for frosting. He glances up, catching your amused expression, and grins. "hey, no laughing at the chef," he teases, flicking a bit of frosting in your direction.

you laugh, dodging the missile of frosting and grabbing a spoon for yourself to retaliate with a dollop of whipped cream. "oh, it's on!" you declare, and soon, the kitchen turns into a playful battleground, filled of your laughter.

eventually, the giggles subside, and you both return to decorating the cupcakes. yoichi hands you a piping bag filled with frosting, his eyes twinkling. "your turn," he says, watching as you carefully pipe delicate swirls onto the cupcakes.

with the cupcakes finally decorated, you step back to admire your handiwork. they’re not professional, but they’re beautiful in their own way, each one a memory of the precious moment shared.

"movie time?" yoichi suggests, already reaching for the tray of cupcakes. you nod eagerly, and together, you carry the treats to the living room.

settling onto the couch with the cupcakes within easy reach, you snuggle under a warm blanket. yoichi picks a light-hearted movie, something perfect for the mood, and presses play. as the movie begins, you each take a cupcake, savoring the sweet, fluffy texture. yoichi’s arm drapes over your shoulders, pulling you close, letting you lean into him, feeling the warmth and contentment radiating from his body.

throughout the movie, you share bites of the cupcakes, laughing and exchanging playful commentary. the room is filled with a cozy, comforting atmosphere, the simple joy of being together.

as the movie draws to a close and the last cupcake is finished, yoichi turns to you, his expression soft and affectionate. "i love these moments with you," he says quietly, his voice sincere.

you smile, your heart swelling with love. "me too," you reply, leaning in to press a gentle kiss to his cheek.

in the peaceful silence that follows, you cuddle closer, grateful for the love you two share. its in these peaceful moments, where you feel at most content and overjoyed. getting to cherish your life with each other, making every day special.

an: tbh im not a big fan of the ending but i was loosing my sanity. hope this wasn't too cringey

[macbethsymphony]

The Swordsman and the Blacksmith | Chapter 24

Roronoa Zoro x Reader

Chapter wc: 7k

Chapter rating: NSFW

Content/Warnings: NSFW, 18+, Fem!Reader, Enemies to lovers, SLOW slow burn, 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][19][20][21][22][23]

Masterlist

Slowly crossposting from AO3

Chapter 24: I'm Still Angry

On the first night, you’d drowned your thoughts in a haze of alcohol, seeking refuge in the oblivion it promised. On the second night, you’d danced with reckless abandon, losing yourself in the rhythmic pulse of the music until memories blurred into nothingness. And on the third night, exhaustion had claimed you, pulling you into a deep slumber that offered respite from the chaos of your mind… until the sound of music beckoned you to start the whole ritual once again.

Outside, the storm raged on, its fury unabated by the passage of time. But within the cozy confines of the tavern, the tempestuous winds and torrential rain faded into the background, drowned out by the lively chatter and infectious laughter of its patrons. In the warm glow of the lanterns, you found solace from the relentless onslaught of the elements and your thoughts. 

You hadn't returned to the ship in over a week, your stubbornness fueling your determination to stay away. The idiot could fall on Yokubari and fucking go to hell, for all you cared, or so you kept on telling yourself. During this time, Nami had visited the tavern on a few occasions, indulging in a drink or two while checking up on you. Initially, concern had etched lines of worry on her face, evident in the way she probed for details about what had transpired between you and the swordsman. But when you remained unwilling to talk, she had simply sighed in resignation, accepting your silence with a weary understanding. She assured you that they would come to fetch you before they set sail again.

"So, what's your poison tonight?" The question cut through the din of the tavern, drawing your attention back to the present moment. Leaning against the worn wood of the bar, you regarded the boy with a half-smile, appreciating his easy charm and friendly demeanor.

He had been a constant presence over the past few days, a willing partner in the impromptu dance sessions that had become a nightly ritual. Together, you had spun and laughed, losing yourselves in the music and the fleeting moments of joy it brought. He was flirty but not pushy, making him perfect for whatever you were trying to achieve with this temper tantrum of yours.

With a playful glint in his eyes, he awaited your response, his expression a curious blend of anticipation and amusement. "I think I'll stick to water tonight," you confessed with a chuckle, your voice tinged with a hint of ruefulness. "I'm still feeling the aftermath of those drinking games from last night."

The boy laughed lightly, a mischievous twinkle dancing in his gaze as he leaned closer, his breath warm against your ear. His flirty attempt was clunky, unpracticed. "Water it is then," he murmured, his tone playful yet colored with a sliver of disappointment. "But don't think you can escape me that easily. We've got some dancing to do, remember?" 

You tossed your head back at his awkward charm, laughing heartily. Goodness, he never gave up. As you watched your dance partner come back with your drink, you noticed how he faltered in his step, how he blanched a little as he glanced over your shoulder. 

You didn’t even need to look to guess what had unsettled the boy so, but still you stared at the swordsman effectively looming over you.

Oh.

He was angry.

Your eyes traveled from his face to the swords at his side, landing on Yokubari, still strapped at his waist. You scowled, the blazing anger within you refueled at the sight. The urge to throttle him still unbelievably strong. Didn’t matter, two could play this game, your own fury not to be underestimated.

With a scoff, you turned away from him, dismissing his presence with a wave of your hand. “I don’t feel like talking to you, swordsman,” you said flatly, your voice dripping with disdain as you refused to give him any more of your attention.

You watched out of the corner of your eye as the boy, sensing the tension between you and Zoro, hesitated in his approach. His easy smile faltered, replaced by a nervous unease as he quickly retreated, eager to avoid becoming collateral damage in whatever confrontation was brewing between the two of you.

Smart boy. You’d do the same if you were in his place.

Sighing, you leaned against the bar, trying to catch the bartender’s attention with a practiced gesture. The need for an actual drink abruptly urgent. “You didn’t have to chase him away like that,” you admonished, your tone thick with irritation. “He was a perfectly fine dance partner.” 

Silence answered you as you heard the subtle shift of cloth and clink of swords behind you as he matched your movements.

When the bartender inevitably ignored you too, suddenly engrossed in polishing a glass, you turned to face him. “What do you want?” you snapped, your expression a mask of defiance, resolute to not let him ruin your night.

His frown deepened, his fingers wrapping around your wrist with a firm grip that bordered on possessive. “We’re going back to the ship,” he announced, his tone leaving no room for argument.

You paused there for an instant, eyes narrowing as you studied his features. “No,” you decided as you wrenched your hand free from his grasp and strode purposefully towards the dance floor, determined to assert your independence in the face of his domineering shit of an attitude.

You sensed Zoro's presence trailing behind you for a moment, his looming shadow casting a palpable weight in the midst of his annoyance, then not anymore. Ignoring his silent disapproval, you surrendered to the pulsating rhythm of the music, allowing it to guide your movements to the center of the crowd with instinctive grace. Drawn into the embrace of a stranger, you yielded to the seductive sway of the tune, granting the man’s touch to travel sensually along the curves of your body.

With each spin and turn, the stranger's hands ventured boldly, taunting the fabric of your shirt upwards to reveal a tantalizing glimpse of bare skin. He twirled you around, allowing your back to fall against his chest, as his fingers roamed in a slow, teasing display. 

On any other day, you would have slapped the inquisitive touch away but on this night the nerve of his exploration served the audacity of your actions. You met the swordsman’s stare with a lidded gaze. Was that fury you saw flashing in his eye? Jealousy? Possessiveness? Whatever it was that twisting up his pretty face, it felt like a victory. 

With a wicked grin, you yielded into the stranger's touch, inviting the tension to mount between you and the swordsman with each passing moment. You thrived on the satisfaction. The air hummed with unspoken defiance, a silent dare for Zoro to break his stoic façade.

The stranger's touch ventured further, his hand gliding from your stomach to your chest, his palm flat as he pressed against the fabric of your shirt before encircling your throat with a gentle yet possessive hold. Tilting your head back against his shoulder, you maintained eye contact with the swordsman, relishing the simmering intensity in his furious stare.

As the tension between you reached a crescendo, you observed with satisfaction as Zoro's hand tightened around the hilt of one of his swords, his knuckles whitening with the strength of his grip. The air crackled with anticipation, each heartbeat echoing the unspoken challenge that hung between you like a tautly drawn bowstring.

With a subtle shift in your stance, you silently dared Zoro to make a move. The stranger's touch remained a seductive invitation, a quiet provocation that dared the swordsman to act on his impulses.

And then, the tension shattered like glass.

With a swift, fluid motion, Zoro's hand inched away from the hilt of his sword, his steps carrying him across the crowded floor in a determined stride. Ignoring the curious glances of the tavern's patrons, he closed the distance between you with purpose, his gaze never leaving yours.

As he reached you, he grabbed your arm firmly but not roughly, pulling you away from the stranger's embrace with a possessiveness that left no room for argument. The stranger's hand fell from your throat, his expression a mix of surprise and resignation as he watched the swordsman stake his claim.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” you shouted at him as you followed his lead.

Without a word, Zoro led you away from the pulsating rhythm of the dance floor, his grip tightening as he guided you through the maze of tables and chairs. The atmosphere crackled with unspoken tension, the weight of his silent declaration hanging heavily between you.

As you emerged into the cool night air, the storm still raging overhead, the wind tousled your hair, rain slowly drenching your clothes.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” You shouted again, planting your feet down, obstinate anger filling you, refusing to budge.

Zoro’s expression remained flat; his jaw clenched in stubborn determination. “We’re going back to the ship,” he stated firmly.

You scoffed incredulously; the sound drowned out by the howling wind. “Like hell we are,” you retorted, your noncompliance unyielding. “I’m not going anywhere with you, swordsman.”

For a moment, the two of you stood locked in a silent standoff, the rain pouring down around you like a curtain of defiance. The tension crackled in the air, thick with unspoken words.

Fuck, he was stunning. You hated to admit it, but you’d missed him. Your eyes surveyed his face, taking in the scowl on his lips, the intensity of his gaze.

He moved with swift determination, pinning you against the slick brick wall. The freezing rain seeped through your already soaked clothes, but you paid it no mind amidst the brewing confrontation.

“What the fuck’s your problem?” you snapped, glaring up at him, defiance flashing in your stare.

“You’re infuriating,” he growled, leaning in close, his breath mingling with yours in the damp air.

“I’m still angry,” you declared, your brows furrowing with stubborn resolve.

“So am I,” he admitted, his hand traveling up to cradle the nape of your neck.

“You have no business being angry at me, swordsman,” you retorted, your tone sharp with wrath.

Despite the intensity of the storm raging around you, the charged atmosphere between you and Zoro crackled with an energy of its own. His grip tightened slightly, fingers tangling in your hair, his gaze boring into yours with a mixture of frustration and longing.

“You always make it so damn difficult,” he muttered, his voice low and tinged with exasperation.

“Me?” you scoffed, index pushing repeatedly into his chest painfully. “You're the one wh—”

But before you could finish your sentence, his lips crashed against yours in a fervent kiss, silencing your protest with a searing passion. At first, you froze, then you matched his intensity, finding yourself responding to his movements with an equal measure of neediness, your hands instinctively reaching up to tangle in his hair roughly as you pulled him closer.

His fingers traveled under your shirt, his touch scorching hot against the coolness of wet skin. You backed off searching for breath. Your eyes met his, the hunger in his gaze made your knees want to buckle a definite want settling in your core.

Fuck.

With a firm push, you disentangled yourself from his embrace, a flicker of confusion crossing his features before he yielded to your lead. As he took a step back, your hand found the hem of his sleeve, a determined look in your eyes as you started to move, dragging him through the winding maze of alleyways. Each turn was swift and decisive, your footsteps echoing against the forming puddles in the dips of the cobblestones as you navigated the labyrinthine paths with resolute haste, your destination clear in your mind.

Without a word, you pushed open the heavy wooden door of the hotel you’d been staying at, the warmth of the lobby enveloping you in a stark contrast to the coldness of the outside rain. The flickering glow of the lanterns cast dancing shadows upon the walls as you beelined to your room.

The swordsman hovered over you, placing soft kisses on your neck as you fumbled to unlock the door.

The lock clicked. You entered. In the sanctuary of your room, his hands grew bolder in their exploration, your shirt dragging dangerously high, the hem of your short skirt catching on your hips in a barely decent display.

“Shit,” you mewled, one of your hands finding purchase on the flat surface before you, nails digging in the wood as you tried to lock the door behind you. “Just let me lock the door,” you begged as he nipped at your neck, licked your ear.

He ignored your pleas, his body melting against yours, trapping you more firmly against him. His hand traveled against your thigh, traced the soft flesh near your core, his hips catching into yours. Your forehead met the wood of the door as the pads of his fingers found your soaked underwear, tracing light circles.

You moaned. Mind feeling empty as a wave of pleasure coursed through your veins.

He brought your hips tighter against his as his touch became rougher. He deftly pushed aside the drenched fabric, pads meeting your slick. Everything felt more intense all of a sudden, the embers of ecstasy unmuted as he explored relentlessly. 

His name passed your lips in a high whine. He moaned against your ear, hips unwillingly bucking into yours. Fuck. You could feel how hard he was.

The lock finally clicked. You turned around. His lips found yours immediately in a primal urgency. 

“The bed’s right there,” you mewled, your words breathy.

He kissed your jaw, down your neck. “Don’t care,” he said as one of his hands pushed up your shirt, your bra, fingers tracing the curve of your breast, pinching almost tenderly at your nipple.

“We should wash up first,” you protested meekly, your fists bunching in the wet fabric of his overcoat, movements contradicting your objections.

“Don’t care,” he repeated breath mingling with yours. He bit at your lower lip, tongue darting in, exploring, demanding. 

You obliged, hands discovering his chest, never settling in one place.

As you broke away for air, he leaned back, his hungry gaze meeting yours. He smirked, taking in the want in your eyes, your bruised lips, the flush on your cheeks. He backed off a step, eye roaming over your body, searing in the image before him in his mind, the way your skirt was hiked up, the way the wet fabric of your shirt clung to your skin as you leaned against the door.

“Fuck,” he groaned. You were the very picture of depravity.

He fell to his knees, pressed a kiss on the front of your underwear as his hands traced up along your outer thighs. As his fingers curled against the lace of your panties, he looked up at you, a soft pause as he searched your features for any hint of hesitation. 

The crystal-clear need etched on your face gave him all the confirmation he needed. He trailed the thin piece of fabric down. It caught for a moment on your knee-high boot as you lifted one leg to help him out. 

Before you could put your foot down, his hand wrapped under your knee, bringing your leg over his shoulder. He leaned his head on your inner thigh, cheek against soft flesh before placing slow kisses, tender bites as he made his way toward your heat.

Your hands found purchase in his hair, pulling painfully on the unruly locks, nails digging into his scalp, backing him away. He looked up at you, a groan escaping him at the sensation. There was clear satisfaction in his gaze.

“Look at you, witch,” his voice was gruff, tick with lust. 

It sent a shiver down your spine, a moan out your lips. You felt some of your slick drip on your thigh, cool against flushed skin. Heat spread across your face at the reaction of your body.

“I’m still angry,” you whispered as he started moving closer, one of his hands exploring up and down your outer thigh, the other dragging your skirt higher, before dipping down, fingers tracing your slit.

His grin broke into a smile as he brought them to his mouth, the light glistening on their wetness. He made a show of licking them clean. Tongue swirling, sucking against the digits before his lips came back to your inner thigh.

“I’m sorry, I was out of line,” he apologized dangerously close to your core, his breath teasing, your legs feeling less and less steady as seconds passed. “Forgive me.”

You whined his name, a hopelessly needy sound. 

Finally, finally, he met your heat, giving you no time to adjust to the relentless rhythm of his onslaught. His tongue pressed against your clit as he devoured you with the hunger of a man deprived of water, each lick and suck a desperate quenching of his thirst.

Your eyelids fluttered shut, the world feeling like a hazy dream in between the waves of pleasure threatening to drown you. Your fingers tightened in the unruly locks, nails digging into the flesh at his nape as your hips bucked unwittingly.

He moaned against you, the muffled sound sending electric shocks through you. His hold on your thigh increased, anchoring you solidly against his shoulder as his nails left crescent marks in the plush flesh. His other hand went to your core, lifting the hood of your clit slightly as he redoubled his efforts. 

Your eyes shot open at the sensation, breath catching in your throat. It was all too much, the pleasure cascading over your mind too sharp. One of your hands snapped away from his hair, clamping over your mouth, muffling the high-pitched scream that passed your lips. The back of your head hit the wood behind you loudly, the pain barely registering. 

Your gaze met his, you sensed the satisfied smirk gracing his lips more than you saw it. He moved away from your clit, exploring. His tongue darting in and out of you, his fingers taking on the bundle of nerves instead.

You were about to come, your vision starting to feel overexposed, everything swirling around you. You tried to warn him, your words incoherent.

He maintained his rhythm, allowing you to tip over the edge, white overflowing your senses.

He continued tirelessly, your thigh trembling against his shoulder. You attempted to pry him off, but he remained doggedly obstinate in his ministrations.

You bit down painfully on your palm as your mind wrestled to keep up with the overstimulation. Your breath hitched and struggled with every inhale and exhale. 

“Too much,” you begged, voice high, the sound muffled by your hand as a second orgasm coursed through you, tears threatening to flood your eyes.

He stopped then, waiting for your grip to loosen in his hair before coming back up. His chin was covered in your arousal. He pried your hand away from your mouth, pressing a soft kiss on the teeth marks etched in your skin before his lips found yours.

His movements were slow at first, allowing your mind to catch up. Then his tongue met yours in a forceful dance, the taste of your slick flooding your mouth.

Your knees buckled. Your fists bunched in his overcoat in an attempt to steady yourself but you still felt your back start to drag down against the door, your legs unable to keep you up.

His hands went behind your thighs, pulling you in his arms effortlessly. You melted in his chest, limbs uncooperative before he deposited you onto the bed.

As your back sank into the softness of the mattress, your eyes landed on the swordsman skillfully maneuvering one of your legs over his shoulder.

“Shoes,” you muttered as your gaze went to your boots. 

He grumbled a curse under his breath, bringing your other leg to his shoulder so both feet were next to one another. “Always so fucking demanding,” he complained, words barely audible as with one hand he tugged at the laces of your boots, the other going to your cunt, two fingers entering your heat.

The squelching sound of your arousal as he fingered you was obscene. Lazy whimpers escaped you as they easily slipped in and out, the hazy feeling in your mind delightful. He suddenly curled his fingers in a come-hither motion, eliciting a loud moan out of you, the promise of rapture starting to edge at your vision once more.

“Zoro,” you begged between moans, his name flowing out of your lips again and again, a deprived chant.

He finished loosening the laces of the first boot, taking it off roughly and throwing it back without care. You dimly heard it hit something but it barely reached the edge of your mind, your attention entirely focused on the shifts of his fingers.

The pad of his thumb met your clit gently, teasing as he started unlacing the second boot.

You bucked under his touch, walls fluttering against his fingers. 

His hand moved against the laces with sudden urgency, tugging harder and faster with each pull as he hurried through the process. 

The second boot joined the other. You whined in protest as he left your heat. He opened your legs, settling himself between them.

You pushed yourself to your elbows, then sitting as you took off your shirt, your bra. Your bodies almost touched in the position, your legs draped over his thighs, warmth radiating from your skin, melting into his own.  

You leaned back slightly, his gaze unabashedly took in the sight. His fingers skillfully unknotted the cords holding the swords at his side. There was a loud clang as they fell to the floor forgotten, his overcoat and stomach band following suit with urgency. 

His hands grazed up your thighs, nails digging in and sending shivers to your core. He leaned in, his lips hovering ever so close over yours.

Your hand palmed his hard-on through the fabric of his pants. You looked up at him, pupils blown in desire.

The moan that escaped him was pure lust, primal as his breath mixed with yours.

It stirred something in you. You ached to see him writhe under your touch, hear that moan again, make him whimper.

“Let me return the favor,” you demanded, fingers moving up and down, groping before inching towards the waistband of his pants.

His hand intercepted yours roughly. “Not today,” he kissed your jaw, down your throat. “Can’t wait,” he muttered after giving your nipple a flick with his tongue.

He pushed you down, your back meeting the mattress in a small bounce. You rolled your hips against his, your arousal leaving a wet spot on the front of his pants. You felt his canine graze your breast as he relished the feeling, followed by a soft bite and his tongue as he sucked and marked.

“Then just fuck me already, swordsman,” you demanded. 

He smirked against your skin. “So needy,” he remarked, pulling back, his hands departing from you as he undid his pants, his aching cock meeting your stomach.

He moved one of your legs expertly to his shoulder, fingers finding the scar near your ankle, tenderly tracing circles against it. Your other leg instinctively wrapped around his hip.

His gaze was filled with lust as he met yours. You felt the tip of his cock against your entrance. His lips went to the white line marking your skin in a soft kiss as he started sinking into you.

You whimpered as he dragged in further, the pace tortuously slow. Your fingers tangled in the sheets in ecstasy. The stretch was overwhelming, intoxicating.

“Fuck,” he moaned against your skin, biting down on the flesh above your ankle, leaving small red marks behind. “So fucking tight.”

You tried to roll your hips, take him in quicker but his hand stopped the movement, stilling you in a bruising hold.

By the time he was fully sheathed inside you, you were breathing hard, your walls already fluttering against him. He gave a tentative thrust, nails digging into the plushness of your hips before he dragged a hand to your lower stomach, increasing the pressure as he filled you oh so well.

He was so deep, it almost made your eyes roll. You could feel your breasts bounce with every slow thrust. For a moment you saw him admire the view but his gaze inevitably returned to your face as he relished each twitch of pleasure passing your features far more than anything else. 

There was a furrow on his brow as he searched for something, his hand moving your leg, opening you up, trying to find a certain angle. You let out a sharp cry as a particular thrust made you see stars.

“Zoro,” you whined, one of your hands extending towards him, “fuck,” he was just out of reach, you wanted to touch him so bad. You let your hand fall, instead joining his for an instant on your stomach.

“Do you have any idea what you do to me?” He slid out to the tip and slammed back in, his pace increasing now that he had found what he was searching for.

Your hand fell back to the covers at the intensity of his movements, knuckles white as you gripped the sheets. His palm roamed up from your stomach, roughly groping as he leaned forward, nearly folding you in half, his breath mingling with yours suddenly. His fingers settled on your neck, then your jaw as he bit your lower lip, and kissed you hard. 

As he pulled back, his gaze blown with lust followed the strand of saliva connecting the two of you. “How long I’ve been wanting to do this?” he passed his thumb harshly on your reddened lips. “Just so you know, I’m only starting, witch.”

A smirk danced on your features at the boldness of his words, a chuckle escaping you, as though he wasn’t already fucking you senseless. You rolled your hips, meeting his rhythm. “Don’t make promises you can’t keep, swordsman,” you retorted, the defiance in your stare igniting a spark in his eye, a challenge he was willing to see through.

In answer, his hand left your face, settled itself between your bodies, finding your clit in soft circles. Your back arched in pleasure, your hands flying to his arms, fingers looking for purchase. Incoherent swears passed your lips, your nails dug in, dragged along his arms. The pain mixing in with the pleasure earning you a loud groan on his part.  

You dimly caught the sound of the bed creak with each of his thrusts, the way the headboard slammed on the wall now and then, but you didn’t care, the ecstasy washing over you making you forget all sense of propriety.

Your words were incomprehensible as he brought you nearer and nearer to the edge. Closer to desperate pleas and wanton moans than coherent sentences. Your whole body tensed hard as you orgasmed, a soft flush spread across your chest. 

You heard him swear under his breath as your walls clenched around him but he didn’t stop as your mind struggled to come back. He suddenly turned you over, his thighs trapping yours. His hands found your hips, holding them up bruisingly. The moan you let out as he slid inside you again was so depraved that he almost came right there.

Your face dug in the covers, drool seeping in the fabric, nails digging hard in the soft weave. You heard threads snap as you writhed. He felt so deep. Your toes curled in pleasure. It was all too much, you were already so damned over sensitive.

“Shit, so good for me,” his hands palmed your ass roughly, velvety skin yielding under calloused fingers. His touch was domineering as it traveled along the curve of your back, pushing up your skirt, still bunched around your waist.

You felt a hand press between your shoulder blades, inch toward your neck, fingers tangling harshly in your locks for a fleeting moment. Then he grasped your arm, pulling you up easily, his arm snaking around you, his palm flat against your sweat covered skin as his hand moved up encircling your throat in a gentle yet possessive grip. Your hands instinctively settled on his forearm for support as you struggled to keep up.  

The sound of wet slapping skin, the squelch as he drilled into you intensified in the position. His hand traveled up almost tenderly, cupping your face, turning you to him. His lips captured yours lazily, one of your hands shifted away from his arm, navigating to his nape, fingers tangling in his unruly hair.

The hand on your hip roamed down, fingers finding your clit. You spasmed and begged at the blitz of sensations. Thighs trembling, there was nothing you could do but hang on for dear life, your nails digging painfully in his forearm, in his neck as his pace fastened.

Your name passed his lips. “One more for me,” he pleaded, hot breath mixing with yours before biting hard on your shoulder. 

“Please, Zoro, fuck,” you sobbed in pleasure as you felt your orgasm rapidly build up.

His hips stuttered, his rhythm broken by your pleas. “Where do you want me to cum?” the urgency in his voice was apparent as he breathed out the question.

“In-inside,” you begged over and over.

He groaned at that, the idea clearly pleasing to him. “Shit,” his thrusts were sloppy, his hold on your body harder. “So fucking perfect for me.”

With a particularly hard flick on your clit, your mind went blank, body hard then limp, entirely supported by the swordsman’s strength as rapture filled you.

He kissed and marked you almost painfully as you came down from your high, walls spasming sporadically around him. He swore emphatically, your name uttered between each curse, before emptying out inside you, his loud moans muffled against your skin.

His movements gradually slowed. He placed a fond kiss on your shoulder, and you whimpered as he pulled out of you, his seed dripping down your thigh. He lowered you gently on the bed, following you as he dropped himself next to you.

Lying there in the aftermath, a sense of weightlessness enveloped you, leaving your mind blissfully devoid of thought. His arm rested heavily on your stomach, the sensation of damp skin against damp skin a tactile reminder of the intimacy you had just shared. Gradually, he shifted, propping himself up on his elbow, his gaze fixed on you with a subtle smirk playing on his lips.

With a tenderness that caught you off guard, he leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to your lips before trailing along your jawline. You watched him, a puzzled furrow creasing your brow, as he rose from the bed with a quiet grunt, pulling up his pants, still pooled around his ankles, before disappearing into the adjacent bathroom.

"What are you doing?" you called after him, your voice hoarse with exhaustion.

"You said we should wash up," he grumbled in response, the sound of running water punctuating his words.

An amused snort escaped you. "Now? Really, Zoro?" You attempted to roll over, but your muscles felt weak, and you slumped back down in defeat.

From the corner of your eye, you saw him lean against the doorway, a faint smile playing on his features as he observed your futile attempt. 

"Having some trouble?" he said, his voice laced with satisfaction as he stalked to your side, the bed dipping under his weight as he settled himself between your legs. If you weren't so fucked out, the smugness in his tone might have elicited an eye roll, but instead, a small chuckle escaped your lips at his comment.

One of his hands went behind your knee, opening you up for him. The other went to your slit, a sharp hiss escaping your lips at the over sensitivity. His fingers traced the seed dripping out of you.

He swore under his breath, his gaze blown out as he met your eyes. 

“Don’t you dare,” you breathed out in a high-pitched whine, your hips arching away. “I’m too sensitive.”

His hand left your heat, slick fingers dragging up your thighs, bunching in the skirt still gathered at your waist.

He hummed in consideration, evidently wrestling with himself. "How do you take this off?" he asked, hovering uncertainly over the fabric of the waistband.

The smile that hit your lips was genuine as you looked at him. "The zipper's on the side, you moron," you replied, pointing lazily to the concealed closure.

He leaned down, planting a tender kiss on your lips as his fingers grasped the zipper tab and pulled it down. His touch lingered on your skin, the kiss deepening. His name escaped you in a soft warning, prompting him to pull back, his lips parting from yours as he guided the fabric off, gently lifting your hips.

Gathering you into his arms, he held you close. "What's with all the tenderness, swordsman?" you murmured, nuzzling your nose against his neck. "I thought you only knew direct approaches."

"Careful, witch," he said, his tone somehow serious as he teased, his hands squeezing plush flesh as he buried his face in your hair. "If you keep this up, I'm bringing you back to bed."

Before you could offer a witty response, he gracefully lowered you into the welcoming embrace of the bathwater. Instantly, warmth enveloped you, coaxing the tension from your weary muscles. With a contented sigh, you reclined against the edge of the tub, allowing the soothing heat to work its magic.

As you relaxed, your gaze drifted to Zoro, who was now bending down to unlace his boots. The soft glow of the bathroom accentuated the contours of his muscular arms, casting a mesmerizing play of light and shadow across his skin. You couldn’t help the smirk gracing your features as you looked at the red marks plaguing his chest, his biceps. In that moment, he was nothing short of stunning, having you trapped and entranced as he undid his pants, kicked them off along with his boots. 

“Scoot,” he demanded with a cock of his head, his earrings glinting in the movement.

You raised a brow at his tone but still you obliged, shifting over. The water rose around you as Zoro settled in behind you, his presence adding to the comforting embrace of the bath.

As he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close against his chest, you didn’t resist as you backed into his hold, savoring the feeling of safety and warmth that surrounded you. The steady rhythm of his breathing was a soothing lullaby, calming your mind for a flicker of an instant.

For a while, you simply reveled in the blissful stillness of the moment, the only sound the soft murmur of the water as his hand traced up and down your arm in a mindless pattern and the quiet exhales of contentment that escaped you. 

“About Yokubari,” you began, your voice barely a whisper, laden with uncertainty.

You felt him tense behind you, his fingers coming to a halt. His lips brushed against the skin near your ear, a delicate, repentant gesture. “I'm sorry,” he muttered, his apology scarcely audible over the pitter-patter of the rain against the rooftop.

You paused, grappling with the words on the tip of your tongue. “I won't deny that I'm still furious with you, Zoro,” you confessed, the admission hanging heavy in the air between you. “But it wasn’t all you. I was tired and scared, and I overreacted. I shouldn’t have left you alone with Yokubari like that, it was irresponsible on my part.”

There was a beat of silence, his lips trailing down your neck, over your shoulder, tracing the marks he’d left moments ago. His arms slid from the bath’s edge, sinking into the water and wrapping around your waist, pulling you tighter against him.

“I’m sorry,” he repeated, his voice grumbly and muffled against your skin. “You were right, I lost myself for an instant.”

You weren’t certain what it was you wanted to say, so you stayed quiet for a while. “Did you at least figure it out?” You asked eventually. 

One of his hands traveled up from your stomach tracing the curve of your breast, playing with your nipple absentmindedly. The other went to your thigh, grabbing the soft flesh, his thumb moving in light circles. You felt his teeth sink in your neck.

“I figured out what I needed to,” he muttered halfheartedly as he kissed the bite mark tenderly.

Your brow furrowed in confusion, trying to understand what he meant. You let your head fall on his chest as you looked up at him. 

“What the fuck does that mean?” You pressed, your voice tinged with apprehension.

Zoro's grip tightened around you, his expression conflicted as he struggled to find the right words. "I meant... I learned enough to control it, to keep it from consuming me," he explained, his tone imbued with a mixture of reluctance and determination. "But whether I've completely figured it out... I haven’t." He paused, his gaze searching yours before he continued. "I tried figuring it out on the day you left but I haven’t touched it since. It felt wrong to handle it without you there. I gave you my word. I should have kept it better."

His hand traveled up, wrapping around your throat for a moment before turning your head and placing a soft kiss on your lips.

“You’re an idiot, swordsman,” your breath mingled with his.

His lips curved into a wry smile against yours, his grip gentle yet possessive as he deepened the kiss, seeking solace and reassurance in the warmth of your embrace. You sank into him, the tension of the past few days melting away with each caress, each shared breath.

“I am,” he admitted. His touch left your face, going back to your breast with more purpose, his hand inched towards your heat once again, eliciting a soft moan from you.

“And you’re insatiable,” you complained in a whine, one of your hands flying to the bath’s edge to find purchase, the other settled on his leg at your side, nails digging hard.

His fingers met your core, opened you up, “I know,” he said with satisfaction dripping in his tone at the reaction of your body.

Bonus scene:

Roronoa Zoro found himself facing the consequences of his actions. The realization dawned on him that he had indeed messed up…bad. He hadn’t anticipated you staying away for so long—a thought that seemed absurd now as he reflected on it. With closed eyes, he furrowed his brow, attempting to will himself to sleep, though slumber had eluded him ever since you departed. His jaw clenched, the memory of the hurt in your eyes flickered behind his eyelids, haunting him relentlessly.

The abrupt slam of the door shattered the fragile peace of his solitude, and he fought the instinct to flinch, hoping to be left alone a moment more.

“Good, you’re awake,” Nami stated, her perceptive gaze cutting through his feigned slumber. “Follow me.”

He reluctantly cracked an eye open, a scowl of irritation etching his features. “I’m trying to sleep,” he grumbled, but the determined look in Nami’s stare made him concede defeat before the battle had even begun.

“Fine,” he muttered, begrudgingly rising to his feet.

His footsteps stopped in front of the establishment, the realization of what Nami was trying to achieve downing on him. Had he known that the navigator was going to drag him all the way to you, he would have undoubtedly put up more of a fight. He tried to turn away but her hand grabbed him hard, pulling him with her. 

“Don’t come back until you’ve made up,” Nami urged, shoving him through the doorway of the bar. “I don’t know what you did, but apologize.”

With a pat on the back, she left him standing there, her words echoing in his mind.

He sighed, shifting uncertainly in the entryway, his gaze surveying the small, cozy space. Inevitably, he spotted you, leaning against the bar, engaged in conversation with someone he couldn’t quite see, a soft smile gracing your lips.

If he were honest, he had had every intention of apologizing in that moment. However, as he watched the young man lean closer to you, an unfamiliar pang of jealousy stirred within him. Rationality reminded him that you didn’t belong to him; you were your own person. Yet, as he witnessed the intimacy of the gesture, heard the clear din of your laughter ring through the chatter of the room, his frustration boiled dangerously. The countless apologies he had rehearsed over the past few days evaporated from his mind as he stormed to your side.

You had willfully ignored him from the moment you noticed his presence, your fury towards him still evident in the fire of your eyes. He sensed his own annoyance doubling at his inability to know how to handle the situation.

Yet, as your angry gaze had met his, he felt a rush of emotions flood over him—a mixture of longing and regret.

Damn it.

In the soft glow of the lanterns, you looked breathtakingly beautiful, and he couldn't help but be drawn to you. He wanted nothing more than to pin you to that bar and kiss you dizzy. You snapped something at him, but he couldn't quite register the words amidst the whirlwind of unknown reactions coursing through him.

Before you could escape him again, he grasped your hand. A possessive hold that was unlike him.

“We’re going back to the ship,” He said, his voice feeling far away, as though it was someone else’s. Hell, even he realized how ridiculous he sounded when the words left his lips.

Fuck.

He didn’t even know how to get back to the ship. 

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