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ivohex · 4 months ago

Note

Hello! Hope you're having a good day ☺️🌸

I have a tiny fluffy request if that's alright... What if MC/reader wears a super fluffy oversized hoodie which makes her look super fluffy and cozy (especially when she puts on the hood) and the lnds boys take one look at her and just wants to glomp her in a bear hug? How do they deal with the cuteness aggression?

Cute Aggression || LaDS

Tara gifts you an extremely oversized hoodie. Your boyfriend finds it... cute. Unbearably cute.

Make sure to reblog and tell me who is ur favorite in the tags 🤭🤭

Pairings: Xavier/reader, Zayne/reader, Rafayel/reader, Sylus/reader (separate)

Rating: G-T (slightly suggestive, blame Sylus)

Tags: gender neutral reader, FLUFFFFF, established relationship, maybe ooc for sylus?? i did my best, cute AGGRESSION from raf, xav being sly, zayne being a nerd (thanks wikipedia), me fighting for my life to write hoodie and not hoddie omg

A/N: tysm for this prompt, I giggled while writing these (esp Raf's and Xav's.) I hardly ever write fluff so this was fun for me. Hope you like them!!! <3

Tara got the hoodie for you as a present. The Hoodie, as she formally dubbed it, claimed a mysterious power: one which made the wearer irresistible. The Hoodie had grown so popular they were nearly impossible to find, but Tara had her ways.

She'd presented it to you with a twinkle in her eyes. "I'm serious! This hoodie is magical!"

"Evol?" you questioned, accepting the package from Tara gleefully.

She shook her head. "No. Magic! Just," she'd said, placing a hand on your shoulder, "Trust me."

After work, you head straight to your boyfriend's place...

More below the cut!

"What's this?" Xavier asks, poking the bag with a finger.

"I got a gift," you say, then clarify, "From Tara," before he has a chance to interrogate you further.

You open the package together and stare at the hoodie. It's so big that you could shove Xavier's oversized beanbag chair in it with room to spare.

Xavier brings a thoughtful hand to his chin. "It looks... comfortable."

You agree. Eagerly, you yank it on, wiggling your arms through the sleeves, which are so long they hang off your hands. Then you turn to face Xavier, and nearly stumble backwards, because he's suddenly right in front of you.

"X-Xavier? What's wrong?"

There's a strange gleam in his eyes. He tugs you to the couch, pulls you to his side, and wraps his arms around you.

Blushing, you look up at him. "What are you doing?"

"Checking to see how soft it is." He squeezes you tighter to his chest.

"Ow," you say, even though you don't really mean it.

You end up putting on a silly drama, one you've seen many times. You expect Xavier will just fall asleep partway like usual.

But that doesn't appear to be the case this time. He keeps nuzzling his face into the hoodie, like a giant housecat trying to soak up your body heat. Every so often, he grips your arms or hips or thighs, and you start to worry he'll leave handprints if he keeps it up.

"You're not even watching!" you chide him softly.

He plays with the too-long sleeves. "Hm?"

Huffing, you start to repeat yourself. "I said—"

"I'm cold," he says suddenly, and he adds on a full-body shiver to boot. You aren't sure you buy it, but... "Aren't you cold?"

"How can I be?" you answer, snorting. You make a token effort to writhe out of his grasp, but he just holds you tighter.

"Yeah, your hoodie looks pretty warm," he murmurs, sighing. Then he looks away again, shivering, and rubbing his arms.

"Pfft. Do you want to try it on?"

Really, you should have known better.

He just smiles at you, as if that's what he'd wanted you to say, then suddenly shoves your shoulder. You topple backwards onto the cushion with a gasp, as he pulls the hoodie up and wriggles in alongside you. Then he pushes his arms through the sleeves and entwines his fingers with your own.

Evidently pleased with himself, he sighs happily and leans against you. "Yeah, this is much better."

"I thought you said your friend got you a hoodie," Zayne says. He reaches forward to adjust the hood's collar, which had gotten twisted somehow as you pulled it on. "This looks more like a tent with arms to me."

You lift your arm and look at the comically long sleeve. "It's... Tara said it's magical."

You feel your cheeks warming. You didn't need to say that, only you couldn't think of how else to respond.

"Oh?"

Zayne takes a seat in his recliner, tugging you along with him so that you end up sitting on his lap. Then he takes the hoodie strings and begins quietly winding them around his index finger. He's quiet for a long moment.

You lightly shake his shoulders, blushing. "...You're not saying anything."

"Your face is red," he replies without missing a beat. "What? I thought we were taking turns stating the obvious."

You open your mouth to say something smart when he suddenly hugs you, squeezing you against his chest. Not too firmly, but with enough strength that you begin to put together what's happening.

You push him back so you can look into his eyes, fixing him with a smug grin. "Zayne, have you ever heard of cute aggression?"

He scoffs, but smiles back. "I probably know more than you do. Should I give you a lesson? When a human sees something they think is... cute, activity in the orbitofrontal cortex increases. Then the body produces neurohormones, which may stimulate feelings of both affection and aggression. They can manifest like this," he says, pinching your cheeks.

"I see." The words come out garbled and strange because he's still pulling your cheeks. He chuckles.

"Or," he says, moving his lips to your shoulder. "Like this." Then he bites down, and you can feel his teeth even through the fleece.

You squirm on his lap. "Hey! You can't just bite someone because you think they're cute..."

"I can't, or you don't want me to?"

"...Hmph. Why do you know so much about cute aggression, anyways? You had a whole lecture prepared. Aren't you a heart surgeon, Dr. Zayne?" You poke his chest to emphasize your point.

He captures your hand and brings it to his lips, pressing a small kiss to the back of it. It could be a trick of the light, but you swear that his ears are turning red. "...Finding something cute is a matter of the heart. Wouldn't you agree?"

Rafayel watches you open Tara's gift with a curious eye. You stare at the hoodie together.

Rafayel snorts. "That's a lot of hoodie."

You shrug and pull it on. As you do, you lock eyes again with Rafayel, who just stands here staring at you, a dumb look on his face.

Things snowball from there.

He keeps grabbing your face and squishing your cheeks while muttering under his breath. It's funny at first until he leans forward and nibbles on your cheek, and you realize a little too late that he'd been arguing with himself not to.

"You bit me!" It didn't really hurt, but it did shock you.

"I can't help it," he says, looking as mystified as you feel. "You just look so... biteable. Let me do it again—"

You wrestle playfully until he traps you in his arms, hugging you to his chest so tightly that you actually gasp for air. "Ugh! Rafayel, you big bully—"

"This is your fault! You've turned me into some sort of monster!"

Then, he won't let you go. He holds you against his chest and coos at you like you're a baby. He keeps trying to bite you, and you keep dodging out of the way as best you can.

"Stooop! You're embarrassing me!"

He pays you no mind. "My scrumptious cutie," he says dreamily, giggling. "My succulent pufferfish. My—"

Unable to withstand this torture any further, you yank the hoodie up and draw the strings tight to hide your face.

"Waaaait, you're running away?" he cries. "Is it because I keep squishing you?"

Your answer comes out muffled. "And biting me."

You feel him poking your sides. "Okay, I'll stop! Please come out. Please?"

After much begging and pleading on Rafayel's part, you finally relent. When you push the hood back, you see the guilty look on his face, the tips of his ears bright red. You stare at each other wordlessly for a moment.

You pat his arm in mock sympathy. "Wanna talk about it?"

He leans his head on your shoulder with a groan. "I wasn't myself."

You giggle and card your fingers through his hair. "That's how cats make me feel."

Rafayel shoots you a lighthearted glare. "Don't belittle my feelings. You're a lot cuter than a cat, you know."

Sylus didn't buy your story about the hoodie's supposed power at first, claiming you were always irresistible, so what difference could a piece of clothing make?

Now, he doesn't seem too keen on letting you go, if the hand gripping the small of your back is any indicator. His other hand is petting your hair.

You swat his hand away, but there isn't much fire behind it.

It doesn't matter, anyway. He just reaches his hand forward and pets your hair again. His movements look stiff, almost like he's restraining himself somehow.

At the look on your face, he just laughs. "Sorry, kitten, but you're just asking for it. You look..." He trails off.

You try to play off how flustered you are with a smirk. "I know. I'm dangerously cute in this hoodie."

"You're always cute, sweetie. But you're right on one front. This hoodie is dangerous."

You realize something with a start, and it's like a shock to your system. But then you seize the opportunity to try and fluster him right back. "Are you... blushing right now?"

He ignores you, opting instead to pull you in for a hug that nearly squeezes the life out of you.

"Oof—Sylus—too much—strength—"

"You can handle it," he deflects easily.

After struggling for a bit, you manage to push him back, panting. "Hah, look at you. The big, bad leader of Onychinus, done in by a simple hoodie. Tara was right."

The corners of his mouth turn downward, and you think he's going to pull away, but then he shakes his head with a scoff. He tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear, and smirks at you.

"I'm starting to think this hoodie's power is going to your head. Maybe you should take it off."

#lads #love and deepspace #lads x reader #xavier x reader #zayne x reader #rafayel x reader #sylus x reader #omg i tried so hard on sylus's but idk lol i think hes ooc #i hope yall like it anyways!!!

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beenbaanbuun · 5 months ago

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guard dog w/ jeong yunho

pt2

you live in a shitty apartment in a shitty neighbourhood surrounded by shitty neighbours who seem to make it their life’s work to make your life a living hell

the guy that lives across from you is an aspiring dj, emphasis on aspiring

unfortunately with him working the late shift at his supermarket job, it means he likes to practice late into the night

after the first 5 noice complaints, you just gave up trying to get a decent night sleep; part of you thinks he carried on just as one giant ‘fuck you’

the family that live upstairs aren’t great either

the son—timmy? tommy? who cares—thinks it’s fun to sit on the stairs with his buddies and smoke anything they can get their hands on

your air freshener is the only thing keeping you from losing your mind at them! well, that and the fact that quite frankly him and his friends terrify you

they watch you carefully as you make your way down the stairs, pushing through their congregation with a tight lipped, overly polite smile on your face

usually they don’t say a word, giving you little more acknowledgment than a hum as you thank them for barely making enough room for you to push through them

they make you nervous, you can’t deny that, and half of you thinks that’s the whole point

it’s like it’s some sort of strange power play to keep you from complaining to his parents, or worse, the landlord

not exactly a threat, but not not one

maybe it’s those nerves that made you open up to your friend one day

you’d met up with him at a local cafe, offering to pay for his coffee if he gave you half of the sandwich he’d brought with him

“they just spook me a little, y’know?” you mumble as a few crumbs topple over your bottom lip and onto your chin, “it’s a group of 10 over-grown teenage boys; it’s fucking intimidating!”

mingi just nods along, a small frown on his face as he listens to you complain about your living conditions for what seems like the millionth time

he gets it; moving is expensive, especially in the city, and you need to stay relatively close to where you work since you don’t have a car

it doesn’t mean he has to like it, though

“what about a guar—”

“a guard dog?” you cut him off, “mingi, we’ve had this conversation so many times before!”

it’s the truth; it seems like every single time you see him he brings up the same suggestion; scary dog privileges can get you very far in life according to you friend

“too mentally ill to look after another life, sure,” he reiterates the same point you make every single time, “but what about a hybrid?”

again, it feels like you’re in a constant loop of deja vu, destined to relive this conversation over and over again until you can finally afford to move out of that shit hole

“i can’t aff—”

“—afford a hybrid, yeah i know,” you roll your eyes as he finishes your sentence; jesus, he’s annoying, “but what if i told you i knew a guy?”

it sounds suspicious, but you won’t lie and say you’re not a little curious

perhaps you’re just a little too nosy to not lean in a little closer with a brow cocked a question of ‘who?’ primed on your tongue

“can’t say,” is all mingi says, “he doesn’t like people poking around in his business.”

he says it so nonchalantly as if he’s not your best friend who’s just announced that he knows someone who is almost definitely into some dodgy shit

you’d be a bad friend if you didn’t ask at least a few questions, but before you can even open your mouth, mingi beats you to it

“£200 will get you a hybrid though,” you almost choke on the sandwich at the price; this is some seriously dodgy guy if he’s selling hybrids for that little, “£300 if you start laying down preferences.”

“mingi,” you begin, about to beg him to get out of whatever business he’s getting himself involved in

“i’m assuming it’s a no?” he raises an eyebrow; you don’t even have to nod for him to understand your answer

he concedes, throwing his hands up in surrender like he always does whenever you have this conversation

still, the smirk on his face as the conversation moves onto something else doesn’t fill you with the upmost confidence

a week passes by rather quickly; you work, you come home, you go about your evenings as normal, you sleep

nothing seems any different, and why would it? nothing about your life ever really changes without some sort of built up or expectation

and then your doorbell rings

you assume it’s just your neighbour again, around at yours to ask you some sort of stupid question that could easy be solved using a single braincell and google

you trudge to the door with a sour look on your face and a bitterness already growing on your tongue, just to swing it open to see… not your neighbour

not anyone you recognise for that matter

your gaze travels up from the chest you stand eye-to-eye with, traipsing lazily over the defined muscles on his neck before reaching his face

a jaw set in stone, two steely brown eyes and a pair of jet black dog ears are what immediately catch your attention

that and the fact that he’s very handsome; so much so that it takes everything in you not to stare at him with your mouth wide open

“are you going to let me in?” he says as if the hybrid’s arrival at your door was at all expected by you

“who are you?” is the only response you can

“your guard dog,” he replies, and just like that everything clicks into place

mingi, that bastard

“but i didn’t pay for a guard dog,” you argue, hoping that it’ll be enough to make him go back to whatever creep it is that mingi has gotten involved with

“well, someone did.”

he looks bored as he uses a hand to push you aside and steps past you into your tiny apartment, as if this is just another day for him

maybe it is; you don’t know much about hybrids, but you’ve heard enough stories to know just how many of them go through life without a permanent home

they’re tossed from pillar to post as if they’re not conscious beings with minds and lives of their own

it’s sad, the fact that they can be so easily tossed aside by so many people

it’s even sadder to find yourself relating to that feeling

you shut the door, twisting the lock with a finality that you’re not sure you understand

“what’s your name?” you ask as you turn to face him

“yunho,” he sighs

it’s a pretty name, you think to yourself

one that you wouldn’t mind saying over and over again for the… foreseeable future…

seriously, fuck song mingi

“well i’m—”

“i know your name, puppy,” your mouth snaps shut at the authority that laces itself into his words, “it’s all i’ve heard for the past few days.”

you zip your mouth shut, something in your brain warning you not to speak out of turn

something in your brain seems to forget that this is your own home; surely you can speak whenever you want to

“i wasn’t sure what to expect, but you seem to fit the bill,” dark pupils land on your body, dancing up and down your form before finally meeting your eyes, “a pretty thing like you in a town like this? i’m shocked you’re still in one piece.”

“how dare you, i—”

“where am i sleeping?” he cuts you off like your complaints are little more than the stubborn words of a child

it irritates you to no end, and yet you can’t find the words to fight back

there’s just something in his eyes that has you convinced that maybe you’re not the one in charge here

“the couch,” you point to the ratty leather thing, feeling a slight twinge of guilt that it’s the only thing you have to offer

he takes a glance at at for just a second or two before shaking his head

“no,” he replies, “you have a double bed, right?”

“a double—” your eyes go wide, “you’re not sleeping in my bed!”

“yes, i am,” he insists, condescending and annoying. you hate him already, “because i’m certainly not sleeping on that thing, puppy.”

it doesn’t go unnoticed that he’s yet to use your name, instead sticking to that godforsaken nickname

if you thought it would make a difference, you might say something about it, but the stubborn arsehole has already shown enough of himself to make you understand that it would do very little

“the floor is available,” you spit, venemously

“and yet it tempts me even less than the sofa,” he smiles sarcastically and it boils your blood, “you’re just gonna have to get used to sharing.”

he takes a few paces forward until you’re having to crane your neck to look him in the eyes

you can practically feel his breath dancing across your cheeks as he lets out a low chuckle, a darkness washing over his face as he studies you

“you’re gonna have to get used to a lot of things now that i’m here,” warmth spreads across your cheek as his palm moves to cup it, “but that’s okay puppy, i can be patient while you learn.”

#ateez x reader #ateez fanfic #ateez oneshot #ateez scenarios #ateez fic #yunho x reader #yandere ateez #yandere yunho

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tinytownn · 6 days ago

Text

back to you – one-shot

roronoa zoro x f!reader

word count: 1.7k

summary: after being ambushed on the way back to the ship, the crew is faced with a difficult battle. you get injured and zoro comes to your rescue–thinking you're unconscious he lets his inner thoughts slip.

content: violence, fluff??, corny ass ending, worried zoroooo, no use of y/n, also for this post and any op fics going forward the character will have giant scissors as a weapon and is the ship’s seamstress (picture sheele’s extase from akame ga kill)

a/n: [UNEDITED] erm don't look at this too hard, i don't wanna talk abt it...i originally wrote another 3k word ending but scrapped it (possibly for another project??) so this is what you guys get lmaoo. more fast paced than i usually like, but i thought it'd be a cute lil fluffy piece.

The air was thick with smoke. Cannons from rival ships deployed, leaving scars in the earth as the ammo plundered deep within. Unconscious bodies that littered the beach became human shields as you attempted to dodge the bullets that whizzed past your head–the sound sending chills up your spine.

You and your crew had been ambushed. The supply trip was supposed to be simple—routine, even. When you arrived, Nami had spotted a secluded docking spot tucked between jagged rocks. It looked safe.

How wrong that assumption was.

Splitting up into groups, Sanji and Chopper went to get food, Nami and Robin ventured to various shops, and Luffy and Usopp found their way through restaurants, eating their way through the menu of any place that would let them in.

You were paired with Zoro to gather medical supplies—a list quickly scribbled by Chopper before you docked.

“Take Zoro with you,” Chopper had said. “To carry the heavy stuff!”

He meant well, but Zoro made no effort to hide his boredom, dragging his feet with every step.

"This sucks," he muttered, arms crossed as he sulked behind you.

“All you’d be doing is sleeping in the crow’s nest. Plus, I’m not carrying all of this,” you reminded him, holding the list up like a scroll. “Suck it up.”

It took a while of wandering, but a large, wooden sign with a red cross messily painted on it came into view–a medicine shop.

“Aha— there it is,” you said, pointing.

Zoro’s gaze, however, was focused elsewhere.

“Sword shop,” he murmured, eyes lighting up for the first time since you left the ship.

He looked at you, hopeful. “Just one—”

“Fine,” you said before he could even finish. “Go. Meet me next door when you’re done. And don’t get lost.”

“It’s right there.” He grumbled, rolling his eyes. “I’ll meet you there.”

Watching him turn, his steps guided him to the sword display in the window and he disappeared inside. Knowing he made it inside, you went next door to start gathering things off the list.

Although there wasn’t much on the list–the bottles were fucking massive. They piled in your arms and began to topple. You regretted sending Zoro off, but you managed to make your way to the counter, paying for the items and hauling the bulky bag behind on your way out.

You glanced toward the sword shop. No Zoro.

Frowning, you stomped over and pushed the door open. A bell jingled overhead.

You scanned the small store, the only person inside was a lanky, half-asleep, old man at the counter. Hearing your footsteps, his eyes perked up, head turned to you.

“Ah, hello, dear!” His scratchy voice echoed through the empty shop. “How can I help you?”

You nodded, keeping your place in the doorway. “Have you seen a man–tall, green hair, probably frowning, pissed off at the world?”

Not even taking a moment to think, the old man scowled. “Yes, I remember him. He was just in here a few minutes ago– rude young man. He left while I was telling one of my stories! You oughta get yourself a better boyfriend. One that knows his manners.”

Your face flushed. “Oh, we’re not-”

“I don’t understand what’s wrong with you kids nowadays, not appreciating a little history.” The man shook his head before his gaze snapped to you. “But you seem like a smart, young girl! Let me tell you about the time…”

You quietly back out of the doorway, softly chuckling to yourself as you imagined Zoro’s reaction to the old man talking his head off. As you lugged the bag behind you, facing the two storefronts you were confronted with a new issue.

Zoro had gotten lost. Again.

You found the rest of your crewmates before you found him. The search had stretched on for an hour before Luffy popped around a corner grinning wildly.

“Yaaa! I found him!” he announced triumphantly. “He was standing next to another sword shop—like they were calling to him!”

You glared at the swordsman, who rubbed the back of his neck, cheeks tinged red.

Luffy began to dramatically reenact the encounter, but as you neared the ship, Luffy’s banter was interrupted by the rowdy yelling of pirates, hundreds of them.

Four ships surrounded yours, anchored at the small beach. A makeshift bridge stretched from one of them, and men were already swarming across, hauling anything they could carry.

A shriek escaped Nami’s lips, she was seething. “My treasure!”

She was the first to charge forward, Luffy quickly following behind her in defense of his precious ship.

The first cannonball ripped through the air, slamming into the sand beside your group. Luffy wasted no time stretching himself to deflect the ammo back towards their ship, propelling it towards the ship and shredding the sails.

Men at the masses came flooding from the ship, all wielding swords. Groups of men high up on the surrounding ship were armed with guns and an army of bullets came raining down on the beach.

The lack of preparation, the horde of bullets, the neverending cannonballs, all weighed heavy on the crew–but it wasn’t anything they couldn’t handle. No one had much time to think, to plan, so they went their own directions, deflecting what they could.

Sanji hurled kicks at the groups on land, skillfully contorting his body to dodge bullets as the contact sent pirates flying. Nami went head to head with a large group of swordsmen, her tactful movement was no match as she swiftly found a weak point. Robin used her devil fruit ability, not only to confuse the group, but attack with another one of her hands as they stared, dumbfounded, at the one that dangled, unattached in the air. Usopp took a further position, in a tree, as he shot precisely aimed projectiles. Chopper also used his devil fruit and took out masses of men with ease and pure strength. The field of swords were practically calling Zoro’s name as he dove in, three weapons at the ready as he sliced into the crowd, taking them out.

You had thrown your weapon—your shears—into the supply bag during your search for Zoro. Now, in the chaos, you scrambled back to retrieve it.

Your fingers wrapped around the handle just as a sharp pain lanced through your arm. A bullet had grazed you. You dropped the shears in the sand, blood already soaking your sleeve.

The bullet only grazed your skin–you were lucky. But that didn’t stop the warfare that went on around you. A cannonball struck the earth a few feet away from you, sending you to your knees as you toppled over, unbalanced.

You grasped the handle of your shears again, determined to join the fight–when another bullet came in contact with your skin. Straight through your shoulder.

Your weapon, taking two hands to use, became impossible to wield as you cried out on the ground. Hopelessness shot through your body. The pirates were approaching, laughing, taunting.

The rest of your crew had pushed forward, unaware of your shrill cries as you bled onto the beach. The screams of the enemies drowned out your agonizing groans as you were stuck with blow after blow.

With the remainder of your strength, you grasped your shears, slashing wildly. You fought. You screamed. But it wasn’t enough as the attackers kept swarming.

Steel nipped at your skin. Warm, sticky blood trickled down your flesh.

As more pirates neared the back of the beach, the men huddled over your body, maliciously slashing your skin.

The pain was endless.

And then you heard him.

Zoro grunted as he propelled his body forward for a sweeping attack, the blow hitting hard to the group of enemies. He blew through each opponent that came his way, relentless in his pursuit to find you.

He slashed through the crowd, blood splashing onto his skin, his clothes–but he didn’t care. He kept hacking away, arms tirelessly working his way deeper into the horde until he saw you.

Any remaining pirates feld from the beach upon seeing the carnage, leaving your bloodied body in perfect view for his guilt-panged heart. Deep cuts and slashes littered your body, blood covered any part of your of body the flesh wasn’t torn. A hole in your shoulder pulsed and spurted blood out onto the ground, another gash on your arm seeping blood as well.

He dropped to his knees.

“Hey! Stay with me!” His voice cracked as he gathered you in his arms, cradling your head against his chest.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered, again and again. “I’ve got you. I’ve got you.”

He kept whispering reassurances, unsure if you were even conscious—speaking more to himself than to you.

Zoro didn’t stop. He called for Chopper but didn’t wait. He sprinted to the ship, carrying you onto thr deck like you weighed nothing.

He brought you lower into the ship, his heavy steps rang throughout the hall as he clamored down the steps. He kicked open the infirmary door, laid you on the bed, and immediately went for the supplies. His hands trembled as he soaked a cloth in alcohol and gently dabbed at the wounds.

You whimpered.

He froze, breath catching. “I know,” he whispered. “I know it hurts. Just hang on.”

He worked quickly, compressing the worst of the wounds, doing what he could until Chopper returned. And while he did, he talked to you—softly, desperately.

“I’ll be better,” he said, voice breaking. “Stronger. So I can protect you.”

You couldn't respond, but your fingers twitched, now intertwined with his.

Zoro didn’t notice. He just held your hand tighter, leaning over you, eyes flicking over your wounds.

“You mean more to me than you’ll ever know.”

There was a silence–his words hanging in the air like a sweet melody.

“Zoro…” you rasped, voice barely audible.

His head snapped up to meet your lidded gaze. “I’m here. I’m right here.”

You gave him the faintest smile.

“Told you…you’d get lost.”

He choked a laugh through his tears.

“Yeah,” he whispered, kissing the back of your hand. “But I always find my way back to you.”

a special thanks to my taglist ♡ (message me to be added or removed)

#one piece x reader #one piece #zoro x you #roronoa zoro one piece #roronoa zoro #roronoa zoro x reader #roronoa zoro x you #zoro x reader #op #zoro one piece #zoro

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archangeldyke-all · 6 months ago

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oh nooo another Sevika prompt!

Sevika and Reader are hanging out at The Last Drop and Sevika cannoooooot keep her hands to herself. She takes every opportunity to grab Reader's ass and hugs her close when Reader sits on her lap during card games. She is being VERY handsy until Reader whispers "uhm hello? is something wrong? can I help you? do you want something?"

And Sevika is like [:

Which, in Sevika, only means "I'll behave if I can fuck you in the closet/bathroom/my office"

please the [: emoji made me scream because i immediately pictured this smirk of hers:

men and minors dni

ran's been a friend of yours since you were a kid, and now that they're working with silco they're sevika's favorite goon. the three of you go out for drinks together sometimes, just to laugh and gossip and relax for a bit.

tonight's one of those nights. you and sevika have been hanging out at the last drop for a while now, helping theriam flip chairs and prepare for opening, waiting for ran to get back from whatever adventure silco's sent them on today.

sevika's always a little more handsy than she probably should be in public, but tonight she's on a whole other level.

while you were helping theriam polish glasses-- sevika's arms slung around your waist and her chin hooked over your shoulder-- each time the bartender would turn away, she'd take the opportunity to start grinding against your ass, moaning in your ear.

as the two of you played a round of double solitare, sevika's boot snuck up your leg and started pressing against your cunt.

you went to the bathroom and sevika trailed after you, trying to push into the stall with you, a predatory glint in her eye and a giant pout on her lips when you told her to scram.

"fu-- what has gotten into you tonight!?" you squeak as sevika starts nibbling on your earlobe. you're on her lap now, thinking that maybe letting her hold you will help her control herself. you were clearly wrong. you're lucky nobody's at the bar yet. while you're used to her smacking your ass and making out with you in public, this is a lot. especially with her hand cupping your cunt.

sevika giggles mischievously and you smile at the sound. "maybe you, if i'm lucky." she mumbles against your throat. you snort.

"ran's gonna be here any sec-- se-vika!" you squawk as she sneaks a hand up your shirt and starts groping your tits.

"ran can wait a few minutes if they show up 'n we're busy. we've been waitin' hours for them."

with her lips on your throat and her hands pinching your nipples, sevika's making an awful lot of sense right now. still, though.

"s-sev. just wait til we get home baby-- we can lay out in the bed and take our time."

"mmm... yeah... or i could take you up to my office and bend you over my desk real quick. make you cum three or four times, get you back down here within twenty minutes."

you cackle, turning around in her arms to face her. sevika's wearing the cutest little smirk in the world, and well... you can't say no to her now. "you are fucking ridiculous." you say. sevika's smile only grows. "and you've got a lot of ambition with those numbers."

"that's not a no." sevika points out.

you just roll your eyes and lean forward, smooching her nose. "you've got ten minutes." you say.

sevika scrambles out of the booth so fast she topples the table, carrying you in a bridal hold, not letting you down no matter how much you squirm and scream. "sorry T, i'll fix the table in a sec!" she calls over her shoulder as she sprints up the stairs.

you have to muffle your cackle against her throat.

sevika bursts through her office door, her frantic energy disappearing for a moment as she gently sets you down on her desk, kissing you sweetly and carefully clearing her desk of anything that'll poke you. then, the excited, giddy look in her eye returns, she gives you a sloppy kiss, and runs to slam the door.

you just giggle, quickly stripping out of your clothes, watching sevika fling her own clothes around her office as she stumbles back toward her desk.

when she's back between your legs, you pull her in for a kiss. she sighs against your lips and you groan, sinking your fingers in her hair, making her shiver.

neither of you are naked yet, but that doesn't stop sevika's hips from grinding against your cunt. you twine your legs around her, whimpering in her mouth.

"fuck, i've been thinkin' about you all day." sevika mutters.

you giggle a bit. "i can tell."

"i could cum from fuckin' you just like this." she grunts. each time she pulls back, you can see a wet spot from your soaked underwear growing on her light blue boxers. it makes you crazy.

"m-me too." you admit. sevika grins and shoves your shirt and bra up under your armpits, pinning you to her desk and diving forward to start sucking on your tits.

you tangle one of your hands in her hair, the other sneaking under her unbuttoned shirt to scratch down her back. sevika groans loud and long when you do, and her movements against you get sporadic and sloppy.

"janna, i love you." she sighs. "i can't-- i just-- you're all i think about. obsessed with you."

"i know baby." you say, kissing sevika's head. "fuck you feel so good. you're so fuckin' cute, sev."

"a-are you close?" she whimpers. you giggle.

"are you?"

"fuck-- yes-- but i wanna make you cum first." she whines. you laugh, but when sevika shoots back up from your tits to shove her tongue down your throat, all you can do is moan and fall apart underneath her.

you shiver as you cum, and sevika hums against your lips, satisfied. you pull away with a gasp, and then give her hair a harsh tug, and sevika lets out a sweet whimper as cums. "y-you fucking soaked me, baby." she moans, awed.

her words make you groan. sevika ducks down to kiss you again, one of her hands shakily patting around her desk for something.

she manages to find the clock, pulling it up to her face and giggling before showing it to you. "we still got four minutes." she says. you cackle.

"yeah, four minutes for my legs to stop shaking before i have to walk back down those stairs."

"don't be stupid, i'll carry you."

you just burst into laughter, and pull sevika down for another kiss.

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