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anisespice · 12 days

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“ accidents happen ” || tokyo rev.

synopsis: in which they discover you had their child and kept it from them all these years later.

pairing: bonten x fem!reader [ mikey, ran, sanzu ]

warnings: mature content ahead. MDI. mature language, crude humor, angst (if you squint really hard), deadbeat!bonten (unintentionally), not proof-read so there may be errors lol and i think that’s it :))

notes: i just want the drama >:) may make more parts, and even extend said headcannons into longer fics in the future, but wanted to post something quick for mother’s day. hope you enjoy!

When you disappeared off the face of the earth, MIKEY had never been the same. One fight. One argument that spiraled out of control, and you were just gone...

He had people looking for you for about a couple years, the trail ran cold after a while and he had half a mind to think you were dead. Up until he got intel of your whereabouts one morning during a meeting.

That man got up and left immediately.

He wasn’t accompanied with any of his men, only because he didn’t want to draw any unwanted attention in the broad daylight. Sure, him wearing a black hood, ball cap, and mask in a park didn’t really help him look inconspicuous but it at least concealed his identity enough for him to blend in. Mikey sat on a bench for a good forty minutes, anxious, making anyone who passed him shiver from his intense aura alone; even birds walked around him. After almost an hour of waiting, he began to feel frustrated. Perhaps, the intel was false. Just as he went to stand, already conjuring up ways to have Sanzu execute the idiot who wasted his time, he heard it.

Your voice. Seizing him, like a siren’s call.

His eyes were alert, darting around until they landed on your figure, spotlighted by the sun, like an angel descending from the heavens. You looked good, healthy. That was good. An array of emotions fought for their turn in Mikey’s heart—Relief, distress, anger, nostalgia. He couldn’t just pick one, especially when it came to you. As he watched from his spot, doing his best to not seem suspicious, he clocked the people you were approaching with excitement, your peppy stride as you waved at, what he presumed, to be mother and daughter.

However, his entire world turned upside down when the little girl extended out her arms towards you, and said “Mama!”

“Hello, my darling.~” You cooed, taking her into your awaiting arms from the woman, embracing the toddler tightly. “Mama missed you so much.”

“Missed you, mama!” was the child’s reply, followed by her giggles.

A bucket of cold water would’ve been better than this. Watching you converse with who he now assumes to be the babysitter, Mikey felt faint. Vision blurring, head pounding, heart clenching. You…you…no. There’s no way. You wouldn’t have moved on…you couldn’t have, not like this, not from him. You loved him, didn’t you? You still love him, didn’t you?

How could you…how could you?

Before he knew it, he started to follow you around. From the park, to the store, all the way back to your apartment. He already phoned some of the executives to start working in on the babysitter, and anyone else in your new found circle for information. He wanted answers. He needed them.

By the time you began fixing dinner, with your daughter laid down for a nap, you receive a knock at your door. Who could that be at this hour?

RAN was chilling outside the rendezvous spot for something the boss and a few other execs were participating in, having a smoke, minding his business, up until he sees a little girl with pigtails wearing a school uniform approaching, standing before him and just…staring. She barely came up to his thighs, could've been no older than seven. She was practically staring into his soul with bright lavender eyes that scarily reminded him of Rin’s when he was that age.

He stared back, head tilted as he blew out the smoke from the corner of his mouth. The hell was a kid doing on this side of town?

Then, after an uncomfortable staring contest, the little girl points at his cigarette. “My ma says those things are bad for you.”

Ran raised a brow, “Does she now?”

“Mmhm! She says it makes people unhappy.”

He offered a thoughtful nod, an amused grin spreading across his face. “Mm. Do I look unhappy?”

The girl looked at Ran for a minute, eyes squinted. Eventually, she shook her head. “No. But, ma also says people who are always unhappy get better at hiding it.”

Ran’s grin faltered. Her unwavering stare started to unnerve him, especially after hearing such a heavy statement come from such a small package.

After a brief moment of silence, he chuckled softly, taking one last drag of his cigarette before flicking it away. He exhaled. “Smart woman.”

The little girl beamed, “Mmhm! My ma knows a lot of stuff.”

“Tsk. But not ‘Stranger Danger’, apparently.”

She tilted her head, curious. “Huh?”

“You shouldn’t be wandering around by yourself, let alone approaching someone you don’t know. ‘s not safe. Especially for nosy little girls who stick their noses in other people’s business. Your ma never taught you that?”

The little girl rolled her eyes, hands on her hips. “Duh. Of course she did. Everyone knows that rule,” she exasperated. Ran snorted, but yielded when she squinted at him, pointing as she sassed. “And I do so know you, so you’re not a stranger.”

This time, Ran couldn’t help the incredulous laugh. “Oh, you know me, huh? That’s not good. ‘m supposed to keep a low profile. Say, you ain’t a cop are you?” He teased, earning another eye roll.

“No. Too small to be a cop, dummy.”

“Oh, pardon me, I didn’t notice. Where do you know me from, then?”

The little girl pointed over to the building..where the executives were having their meeting. She beamed, “Ma’s works in there. On important people days she can’t get me from school, so she tells me to come straight here, and to not talk to the purple man that stands near the building. She says you’re mean.”

Ran smirked, then gave a half-hearted shrug.

“She also says you’re my pa. But, I never believed her. You’re too old.”

Ran’s smirk dropped.

Whether more from the first comment or the last, you decide. But, one thing was for certain: he needed another cigarette.

SANZU cackled watching some guy struggle to round up a couple of rowdy twins at the convenience store. One was knocking shit off the shelves while the other ran circles around the guy. It was what he needed for his bitch of a hangover, a good laugh to distract from the ache in his skull.

However, he wasn’t laughing for long when you came around the corner of the isle, holding a few items with a smile on your face that soon faded once you saw the scene unfolding before you; the pinkette thought he was still tripping balls. Blinking a few times to allow any after effects of the drugs to clear up, when you didn’t disappear he used his long legs to swiftly yeet behind one of the shelves, peering around it like some paranoid stalker. The last time you had spoken, you had threatened to castrate him with your teeth if you ever saw him again.

And he’d be damned if he tried your bluff.

He watched in awe as you straightened those twins up quick. If he didn’t know any better, he would’ve thought they were trained to obey you, and only you. Any other authority be damned. While the guy was putting all the stuff back on the shelves, sweaty and out of breath, you gently reprimanded them for causing trouble. You still made that cute pouty face you always did whenever you were mad at him…

“What did we talk about earlier? Hm? Mr. Satoru was very kind to help mama today, you know. You two promised me you’d be on your best behavior for him.”

Sanzu gagged. This was the rebound you let nut in you? This huffy moron who can’t handle a couple of ankle biters, this was your king? He had half a mind to just gut the guy to put him out of his misery from that pathetic display from earlier, alone. He couldn’t imagine how difficult it must be back home. He remembers when he was that age—Rowdy, reckless, the Antichrist. Adorable, but deadly. God bless that poor bastard’s soul.

Wait…Mister? Not…dad?

The first twin whined, stomping their feet. “He’s too boringggg!”

Come to think of it…if Sanzu squinted…the longer he looked at the little family…he swore the more he saw the resemblance of himself in the tiny gremlins. From the hair, to the eyes, all the way down to the mannerisms…Hang on. When had been the last time you two fucked? Three…no, was it four years ago?

The second twin huffed, pointing at the man. “Yeah! And he’s jus’ being nice so that he can sleep in your bed, mama!”

You flushed, nervously chuckling as you looked around to make sure no one heard. Sanzu ducked behind a bag of chips, now nothing but eyes peeking through the gaps of food on the shelf.

So…that loser’s not the father? Then…could that mean..?

“He’s mama’s boyfriend, remember? He’s allowed to do that. And he’ll be around for a while, so I want you two to be nice, okay?”

“…okay, mama.” They grumbled.

Sanzu almost popped a blood vessel, fist clenched around a bag of Lays and nearly busting it. He chuckled darkly, “Oh. We’ll see about that.”

likes, comments & reblogs much appreciated!

#🍁wasabi #happy mom day :] !!#tokyorev #tokyo revengers #tokyorev x reader #tokyo rev angst #tokyo rev fluff #tokyorev fluff #tokyo rev headcanons #tokyorev headcanons #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo rev #tokyo rev imagine #tokyo rev x reader #bonten x reader #bonten #mikey x reader #ran x reader #sanzu x reader

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revasserium · 8 months

Note

can i have one were zoro realises she does things bc of truama (like doesnt speak much etc)

hold me (still)

opla!zoro; 6,680 words; slow!!!!burn, fem!reader, ex-assassin!reader, straw hat!reader, general tragic backstory/trauma, fluff, hurt/comfort, bit of angst, emotionally constipated zoro, communication? what's that?, nami playing therapist bc she's the only one with 1 iota of emotional intelligence

summary: sometimes, stillness is a virtue, and others -- a tragedy. or, in which the straw hats pick up a new member and zoro is equally intrigued and weirded out by you.

a/n: well. you guys asked for slow burn and... the burn is so slow u gotta squint to see the smoke yall. but trust. the burn does get there! pls be patient!! and i tried to combine 2 dif reqs in this one fic :)

You are of the quiet sort. Just a shadow dancing in the periphery of their vision, and when they first met you, you’d told them it was your superpower, a soft, still smile slipping across your lips. Luffy had bought into it immediately, and the invitation was out his mouth before anyone could stop him.

“Come with us!”

“Oh…” your lips pressed into a thin line of consideration.

Zoro’s fingers itched towards his swords because something about you makes the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. But something else — something uncomfortable and strange, something very much like curiosity — seizes his chest and twists his stomach. Strange, he thinks, too strange.

“C’mon! It’ll be fun!”

And then, you’d smiled wider, and nodded, and that had been that.

It’s been three months since then, and you are still of the quiet sort, though it had receded a bit with time. What with Sanji’s gentle flirting and Usopp’s not-so-gentle stories and Nami’s bright, dry-humored companionship, you’d begun to “open up a bit”, so Luffy observed.

Zoro, for his part, has kept his distance. Because sometimes he still catches you at the bow of the ship, staring out across the midnight waters, still as a stone-carved statue. Still as a wooden beam — stiller, even.

“What’s with that?” he asks one day, strolling up to Nami as she traces a fine line over a new map she’s working on.

“Hm?” is her very eloquent response.

Zoro ticks his tongue against his teeth and casts his eyes about the ship, finding them drawn to the shape of you, up at the bow again, reading in the shade of the tangerine trees. Nothing moves except for the wind as it whisps through your hair and the slow scanning of your eyes as it skates across the page.

“New girl,” Zoro says, crossing his arms as Nami finally looks up at him and then off towards you.

“Why don’t you ask her yourself?”

Zoro lets out a puff of breath, unfolding his arms to glare at Nami. He finds her grinning a lopsided grin as she clicks shut her compass and puts down her pen. She leans a hip on the barrel she’d been drawing on and folds her own arms.

“Oh, you like her.”

“I’m weirded out by her. ‘S not the same thing,” Zoro snaps, but when he tries to leave, Nami blocks him with an arm and pins him with a sharp, leveling look.

“No, no, no — we’re gonna work this through.”

“No thanks, I’m good.”

“Uh-uh, you still owe me after that round of drinks the other night — remember when you bet you could drink more than me?”

Zoro narrows his eyes, “I did drink more than you.”

Nami’s grin is gleeful, “No, you didn’t. You had to be dragged back to your room after clogging up the toilet. Or do I need to show you the evidence —”

“Alright — fuck, fine. But really? This is what you’re gonna waste your favor on? You could’ve asked me to —” Zoro gestures around vaguely, “clean the bilge or something.”

Nami shrugs, looking almost too pleased, “Nope! This is what I wanna use my favor for. And, really, you think a bit of bilge water is gonna gross me out? C’mon.”

Zoro heaves a sigh and leans back against the main mast, closing his eyes.

“Fine then. Go.”

Nami sits back on the edge of the barrel.

“No, you go. Admit that you like the new girl.”

“I don’t.” He doesn’t open his eyes.

“I’ve seen you staring at her. We’ve all seen you staring at her.”

“What, that a crime now?”

Nami fights the urge to roll her eyes, “No, but I’ve never seen you try so hard to avoid someone before.”

Zoro lets out a bark of laughter, hard and mirthless, “Yeah, so that must mean I like her.”

Nami cocks her head, “It means you feel something towards her. And I’d suggest you figure it out.”

“And how’d you propose I do that?”

Nami once again waves in your direction, “Go. Talk. To her.”

Zoro lets out another breath, eyes scanning across the ship, anywhere but towards where you’re still sitting and reading, finger flipping a page in a perfect, smooth, singular motion.

And Zoro’s not blind. Blunt though he may be at times and careless as he is about most material things, he can still appreciate beauty when he sees it. And you — there’s no denying that you’re beautiful. Your strange stillness aside, when you do move, it’s with a dancer’s lissome grace, fluid lines, not a single movement wasted. When you smile, it seems to light you up from the inside, and your words, though soft, carries the well-worn weight of river stones, glittering beneath the clear, spring stream of your voice.

There’s a sharpness in your eyes, a straightness to your spine, a way of carrying yourself as if you’re afraid that one wrong move might shatter you and the entire world around you.

Sometimes when he sees you, he wonders at the hands that had sculpted you this way. He wonders at your life before they’d picked you up in Loguetown, when you’d oh-so-silently slipped up the execution platform and helped Luffy down, all the while staying free of Smoker’s watchful gaze.

The few times he’s seen you fight, he can’t help wondering if you’ve eaten some kind of devil fruit as well. No human could be so fast as that. Or be so quiet. But then again, he’d fought Kuro, and they’d seen stranger things. Still, he marvels at the way you flicker in and out of sight, slipping around the edges of battle like a dark, haunting thing, and men would drop like flies beneath your quick, quiet hands. With nary a sound or shout before their eyes roll back and their breathing is no more.

On the instances when Sanji had asked about your past, your eyes had gone misty and dark, unfocused. You’d gone still, freezing for so long that Usopp would cough just to fill the silence. And then slowly, ever so slowly, you’d turn back towards them with a small, sad smile and say:

“There’s… not much to talk about. I grew up somewhere far away, where if you didn’t keep quiet and still, bad things would happen to you. And then when those bad things happened, if you weren’t quick — the quickest of all, you’d die.”

Bad things, huh? Zoro thinks as he makes his way towards you, a hand resting on the hilt of his swords. He comes to a stop next to you and leans against one of the white planters, casually peering over your shoulder at the book in your hands.

For a long moment, neither of you move. Then, Zoro clears his throat and forces himself to speak.

“Is it good?”

It takes you a second, but eventually, you turn towards him.

“The book? Yeah, I suppose.”

“Not exactly a glowing review.”

You laugh, a soft, breathy little thing as you look back down at the page.

“It's about a girl who falls into an enchanted sleep, and a prince who wakes her up with a kiss.”

“Must’ve been one hell of a kiss.”

“Yes, and one hell of a prince.”

Zoro finds himself chuckling, his shoulders loosening as he takes another breath.

“And then what?” he asks.

“And then… he asks her to marry him.”

You run your fingers along the page, smoothing your palm over the ink and parchment. Zoro watches you, wondering, always wondering.

“What’s she say?” and it’s then that he notices his own voice, hushed and low, barely a whisper.

You look back up at him and smile a smile a sphynx would have been proud of.

“I don’t know. I haven’t gotten there yet.”

Zoro takes a breath, and the breath tastes distinctly different than all the breaths he’d taken before it. As if the world takes the breath with him, and some fundamental truth had shifted on the exhale.

The moment breaks, as moments are wont to do, when Sanji calls out for lunch and Zoro jerks out of his almost-reverie. You slowly close your book and rise to your feet, turning back to smile at him.

“C’mon, it’s lunchtime.”

Zoro nods and follows you into the kitchen, where Luffy and Usopp are already digging in, and Nami is pouring herself a drink. She spots the pair of you and catches Zoro’s eyes. A grin ticks at the edge of her lips but before she can say anything, you’re accosted by Sanji sweeping into a deep, flourishing bow, and ushering you towards the table, where he’d set your place in a manner fit for a princess.

“Where’s my setup?” Zoro asks as he drops into the seat next to you, cocking an eyebrow. Sanji shoots him an unimpressed look.

“I’m surprised you can use a fork and knife, moss-head. Just be grateful and eat up.”

Zoro scoffs but digs in nonetheless.

When next they dock, it’s on a rare, peaceful island — an island of light and books and learning, where the air smells of salt and ink and drying parchment, of unwritten words and untold stories. But it smells of a stillness too, and Zoro knows without having to ask that you’d like it here.

And you do.

He’s never seen you smile so much, never seen you so vibrant and full of life. You chat and laugh and read with a voracious hunger, and he finds himself drawn to this new, warm, moving side of you. He finds himself, more often than not, by your side, even when neither of you speak. And he basks in the comfort of the quiet that permeates the air when it’s just the two of you — him hanging in the hammock on deck, you reading by his side.

But now, there’s the soft tapping of your foot, the shuffle of pages when you flip forward to see what’s coming next, and of course the ever-present shush of the ocean as it washes against the Merry’s side.

The Log Pose needs two weeks to properly calibrate to the next island, so they’ve got time to kill.

On the fifth night, over dinner and drinks, Luffy asks the question that everyone’s been thinking since the day they’d all met you —

“So. Why’re you so still all the time? Not that it’s weird or anything — well, actually — it kind of is, but it doesn’t bother me. I’m just asking cause I'm curious!”

You look up from your half-finished wine but Zoro feels it happening, like the hush of a fan blade slicing through air, the gasp before a porcelain vase tips over and shatters. You stop. You stare. You’re frozen in every sense of the word. And he’s known you for long enough to know that you only go still as a reflex, only reach for it as a shield. Against what? He doesn’t quite know.

“It’s… something of a long story,” you say, your voice low and hoarse.

Luffy grins, smacking his lips as he sucks the meat off a chicken leg, “We’ve got tons of time! Right?” he looks around as if for validation, but everyone’s eyes are caught on you and your unnatural stillness.

Zoro shifts slightly in the seat next to you, opening his stance and turning towards you.

“Could do with a good story.”

Your eyes flash in his direction and he offers you the barest hint of a smile.

You relax, ever so slightly, drifting back in your seat, your glass cupped in the palms of your hands. And then, you begin to speak, your voice smooth and lilting, your words washing over them like the faint lull of the tides.

“When I was three, my father sold me for a barrel of beer.”

A dull clack echoes around the room and everyone turns to see Sanji hurriedly righting the thick stein he’s knocked over. Thankfully, it’d been empty.

“Sorry — I just — what?” he sounds furious but Usopp lays a hand across his arm and shakes his head.

You take a deep breath and continue, your voice oddly emotionless as you say, “The man who bought me took me to an island. It was… a dark place. A quiet place. I only learned its name after I escaped — an island called Elysium.”

Nami gasps before clapping her hands over her mouth.

“I’ve just — I’ve heard of that place before, but I thought… I thought it was just a made-up place.”

Luffy swallows hard, frowning, “What’s it like?”

Nami’s eyes flicker between you and Luffy, “Supposedly… it’s the home island for… for the most feared group of assassins in all the seas combined.”

Usopp’s eyebrows jerk up, “The most feared?”

A faint smile seeps across your lips like blood.

“Yes. The Shadows that Live.”

Everyone turns to look at you. Luffy picks up another drumstick.

“Whoa… cool name!”

Zoro hums, “I’ve heard of them before — but mostly, it was just an old wive’s tale about… shadow assassins who hunt in the dark. Mercenaries for hire. But… no one’s ever seen one before.”

“Because… once you see one, you’ll never live to tell the tale,” you say, your eyes now downcast and fixed on the glass in your hands.

“Then…” Usopp’s voice is soft, “What about… you?”

“I… I ran away.”

Silence greets you. But after a moment, Luffy spits out a bit of bone and uses it to pick at the space between his teeth, his eyes round.

“Wow! You must be pretty good to run away from an island full of shadow assassins!”

You almost laugh, his boundless trust hitting you like a punch to the stomach.

“So…” Sanji lets out a puff of silvery smoke, “the staying still thing… that’s just part of your training, yeah?”

You nod, “Something like that.”

Someday, you think, you’ll tell them about the hellscape that was Elysium island, of the long echoing halls, dark and still and silent. Of the mechanical beasts that hunted by sound and movement alone. Someday, you’ll let them know about the poisoned pomegranate seeds that they feed all the “recruits” to keep them hazy, of how you’d kept six of them suspended in your mouth and spat them all out when you’d finally made it far enough from the island to allow yourself to breathe.

“And… are these shadow assassins gonna come after us?” Nami asks, her voice careful and light.

You purse your lips, “I… I don’t know.”

Nami sighs, but a moment later, she moves to refill her drink with a slight shrug, “Well, just one more enemy to add to our growing list. Soon, we’re gonna have to post a sign-up sheet.”

At this, everyone laughs, and the tension snaps like a wounded spring.

Luffy burps loudly, patting his stomach, “I’m not worried — I mean, if you were able to run away from them once, that means you’re stronger than them, right?”

You pause, your hand hovering over the wine bottle. Zoro gently reaches over and refills your glass for you. You shift back into movement, casting him a small smile and taking a sip. The wine is cool and tangy as it hits the back of your throat. You breathe, and the world keeps spinning.

“I… I’m not sure — I’ve never fought… any of… them… before.”

“Guess we’ll find out if they try to come for you then — but you’ve got us now!” Luffy says, reaching for an apple and chomping into it, “ — Sho… you duon gotta wourry —” he licks his lips as he takes another huge bite before tossing the core towards the waste bin, “We’ve got your back!”

Nami makes a disgusted face, “Don’t talk with your mouth full, ugh.”

Sanji chuckles, tapping out his cigarette, “Yeah Luffy, mind your manners.” But his voice is full of laughter and you find yourself relaxing into the sway of the night, the swing of conversation. Beside you, Zoro refills his own glass and leans over to clink it against yours.

You turn, but he only raises his glass before taking a sip.

You mirror his movement, cradling the cup to your chest when you finish.

Later, he finds you by the tangerine trees, ghosting your fingers over their lush green leaves, dark enough to look black in the evening light.

“Hey.”

You turn, “Hi.”

Zoro sighs and looks out over the darkened waves, the moonlight refracted into a million shattered bits of sky.

“Luffy’s right, y’know.”

“What about?” you ask, joining him by the railings. The night air is cool and crisp. Behind you both, the island oozes with lamplight and laughter. Even from here, you can hear the joy, the peace that permeates the air here. It wouldn’t be a bad thing, you think, to stay here forever.

“If they come for you,” Zoro says, “we’ll have your back.”

You let out a small chuckle, looking down at your hands, “I know.”

“So,” he turns towards you, his earrings glinting in beneath the scimitar moon, “you don’t have to be afraid anymore.”

You lick your lips, and instinctively, you reach for the stillness. All the days and weeks and months with the people around you have softened you, and for that, you know you should be thankful. Still, old habits die hard, and you have to clench your fists and dig your nails into your own palms to keep from freezing completely.

You take a shivering breath and force it out again.

“Fear’s a hard habit to break.”

At this, Zoro grunts, though it sounds something like consent. The moment stretches, long and soft and taffy-sweet.

He turns back towards the sea, “Yeah,” he says, and then —

“But we can take it slow.”

You swallow hard, passed the broken shards of forgotten words lodged in your throat (you find that they all somehow taste like thank you), and you nod. Warmth tickles your cheeks and you wonder why he’s said we instead of you — and later, lying in your bed at night, staring at the moon-slatted ceiling, you wonder if he was really talking about fear or if it was something else entirely.

You don’t get a lick of sleep that night.

The next few days pass in a light, repetitive blur. You and Zoro are sent on a few short shopping trips in the city, and you’re glad for something to do that involves movement. Shocking how quickly the body adapts once the weight it’d been holding on to is lifted.

You are still quiet, and he, the same; but the silence has shifted around you, and whereas before it’d been solid and steady, it’s now thrumming and charged with some unspoken energy.

Neither of you are blind to it; nor, it seems, is the rest of the crew.

Sanji’s taken to openly teasing Zoro about being with you all the time, complaining loudly that he can’t get a word in edgewise because Zoro refuses to leave you alone. Nami keeps on trying to drag you out for “girl's day” shopping trips, hinting at all the cute clothes you could get and how “green really suits your skin tone, y’know?”

Luffy and Usopp for their part, both just grin whenever they see you together — Luffy stoked at the fact that you seem more happy and talkative, Usopp gleeful at the way Zoro always seems so much softer when he’s next to you.

You’ve taken to watching him when he trains, sitting in the shade of the tangerine trees, a cold drink in your hand as Zoro runs through his katas. You content yourself with watching him flow through the movements, one and then another, and then another after that. He contents himself with your presence, knowing that you’re here, feeling your eyes as they skate down the length of his back or the width of his shoulders.

It’s a peaceful sort of companionship, even if it is living on borrowed time.

When you all wave the little island goodbye, it’s with heavy hearts and tearful smiles. It had treated you well, and you think you’d miss it. But adventure is as adventure does — it calls, beckoning to those with wandering hearts to listen.

The first week back at sea is a strange one, full of a ringing nostalgia. As if you’re simultaneously coming home and leaving one at the same time. Everyone is a bit quiet, except for Luffy, of course, who literally bounces off the freshly waxed planks, humming to himself as he sits on top of the great ram’s figurehead.

“Is he ever still?” you ask one day, sometime in the second week.

To which Zoro makes a sound between a scoff and a laugh, “You’ve been here a while. What’d you think?”

You sigh softly and tear your eyes away from the bright, shivering ball of energy that is your captain towards the far horizon. A sliver of uncertainty twines through you and your breath slows. Zoro glances at you, now long since attuned to your subtle shifts in movement and stillness. He narrows his eyes.

“What is it?”

You shake yourself back into the moment, forcing a smile.

“Nothing. I think…” your words fade as the feeling twists in you again, knife-sharp and stinging. You clear your throat and reach up to brush away a strand of hair. Skin grazes skin as Zoro’s hand meets yours in the same gesture and you both freeze — hands held up, his finger caught against the bend of your cheekbone, your fingers curling over his.

Time slows, slackens around the pair of you, and the moment stays, suspended in space — garnet dark and perfect.

Neither of you dare to breathe. It’s then that you realize how close Zoro is — close enough for you to see the entire ocean reflected in his eyes: big and dark and so endless it nearly unmoors you. Close enough for you to feel the warmth of his skin; his body, emanating heat. You’d often wondered, in the long hours of watching him train, at the glistening copper of his skin and the light-kissed quality, if the sun himself favored Zoro as well.

Like this, it’s easy to believe that beneath his skin, there pulsed something like sunlight.

“Look! It’s an island! It’s an island!”

And just like that, the moment shatters. Time slips back into motion and you pull away from each other, breathless, with warm cheeks and thundering hearts, feeling somehow lightning-touched and static-ridden.

You take half a step back, reaching up to press a hand to your mouth as if to stop something from tumbling through. But what? You can’t really say.

Zoro tips back as well, whipping around to help Usopp and Sanji with the sails as Luffy continues to holler, waving his hat. On the horizon, you see it looming — the silhouette of an island. You lower your palm from your lips to your heart and wonder what kind of island it will be.

Deserted — seems to be the answer when you all make landfall. The island is quiet, but the occasional chirp and cricket staves off your nerves as you all wander cautiously about the beach, squinting into the dense forest that seems to encompass the whole of the island.

“Looks like a good place to camp for the night!” Luffy says, grinning as he plops down on the sand.

Sanji nods, dusting off his hands, “We’ll need some wood for a fire, but I reckon I can whip up some grilled fish from the fresh catch.”

You wrap your arms around yourself and look around, glancing back at the darkening horizon.

“Something the matter?” Zoro’s voice is soft as he helps you carry some of the camping supplies from the ship.

“No… yes… I —” you look up at him, pursing your lips, “I don’t know. I’ve just… this island is…”

Zoro looks around, his dark eyes scanning the thick swath of forest just beyond the beach, “Too quiet?”

You let out a tiny laugh, “Yeah, something like that.”

He nods, “Don’t worry, I’m — we’re here.”

And he leaves it at that, hoisting a stack of wood over his shoulders and going to help Nami with the fire. You watch him with a smile, wondering what on earth you’d done to deserve this level of caring, this magnitude of kindness. Soon, dinner is had and drinks are shared and laughter is spilled like so many silver coins over the white sand beach. The lull of the evening takes over you all, and before long, Luffy and Usopp are slumped over each other, snoring loudly.

You stare into the depths of the fire and try to tamp down the growing dread festering inside your bones. All those years of holding still, of breathing and listening and feeling — you shake yourself — no, not all stillness is a bad thing. Not all silences are made the same.

“You’re doing it again,” Zoro’s voice almost makes you jump. Instead, you turn, finding him next to you as he nurses a half-drunk bottle of wine in his hands. He doesn’t look at you, but there’s a loose grin hinged across his lips.

“Sorry,” you say, ducking your head, feeling a now familiar heat creep into your cheeks that has nothing to do with the dwindling bonfire.

“Don’t be,” Zoro takes another drink, “But I told you… you don’t have to be afraid anymore.”

“I know… and I’ve said before —”

“Fear’s a hard habit to break,” Zoro echoes back at you, finally glancing over and catching your eye.

You breathe out, looking down at your own hands, “Yeah… but I’m trying.”

You both fall silent, and for a while, the only sounds are the crackle of the dying flames, the shush of the ocean waves, and the occasional snores from the rest of your crew. It’s late — later than you realized.

“Do you… want me to grab a book for you?”

You smile, “No, I don’t think it’s bright enough.”

“I could restoke the fire.”

“No, it’s — it’s okay.”

“Alright.”

A bird coos the distance.

“Why don’t you tell me a story?” you ask, turning to look at Zoro proper, shifting till your body is facing him.

In the faint light, you can see the edge of his adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows.

“You’re asking the wrong guy — you should wait till the Great Captain Usopp’s awake.”

“Yeah, but I want to hear one from you.”

Zoro sighs, his eyes fixed on the last of the flickering flames. He takes another swig of wine before he starts to speak, his voice low and a bit stilted, but he pushes on. He tells you about his childhood, the village he’d trained in, the doujou in the middle of the wood, his friend who he’d never beat — not even once.

He tells you about he early mornings and the late nights, and how the world had seemed large enough to conquer.

“… And then… there came a morning when she didn’t show up… and sensei came and told me that there’d been an accident.”

His voice almost breaks then, and your eyes catch on the shining white hilt of the Wadou Ichimonji — his thumb pressing against the guard, running along it’s hard metal edge.

“Oh… I’m sorry.”

Zoro shrugs, “Don’t be.”

You nod, “Still.”

Zoro slates you a lopsided smirk, “So. Now you know my tragic backstory too.”

You laugh, leaning back to cast your eyes up towards the sky, “And you know mine — it’s almost like we’re friends or something.”

Zoro lets out a long breath, “Yeah… or something.”

There’s a tightness to his voice that makes your skin tingle and it takes everything you have not to look over at him, to try and see if he’s looking at you, watching you the way you’d imagined him to be. You fancy you can feel his gaze on your face, but you close your eyes instead.

You let yourself fall into the warm haze of sleep, and for a while you drift there, your mind sifting through shards of memories and slivers of sound, casting them against the backs of your eyelids as you slowly slide into the darkness of dreams.

You wake up to a gasping stillness — the silence pressing in on your eardrums like thumbs, the darkness around you so complete it’s almost a solid thing. You freeze, your breath hissing to a halt inside you. Then distantly, ever so distantly, you hear the sounds of battle — metal clashing against metal, the hard thud of boots against flesh. You shake your head and reach up to clap your hands over your ears and only then do your senses return to you, snapping back as if you’d been abruptly shunted back into your earthly body.

“Gum Gum — Pistol!”

“Seize her!”

You whip into movement, fast as a flash, dashing away, hoping against hope that it would draw your attackers far enough from your crewmates.

“No one… ever… leaves us…”

The voice is serpentine and susurrus, sinking into your skin like sharpened teeth, but before it can reach you, it’s cut short by a bright flash of silver.

You gasp, whirling around, reaching for the nearest pulse, instinct taking over as you sink your fingers into muscle and flesh. The rush of blood thrumming beneath your fingertips comes too easy, even as a familiar scent accosts you. A moment later, your hands are being pinned above you, and thick, rough bark is digging into your wrists as Zoro stands before you, a sword in one hand, the other holding you still.

His eyes are a little wild and a lot worried. There’s a ring of red rawness around his neck, thin trickles of blood trailing along his jugular, disappearing into the wide scoop neck of his shirt.

“Hey, look at me.”

You nearly whimper, struggling against him, fear still coursing through you like a drug but Zoro is strong enough to keep you held. Behind him, you can see the rest of the crew fending off several shadowy figures, Usopp waving a torch, screaming at the top of his lungs, Luffy whooping as he whacks another figure with his fist.

“Z-Zoro?”

“Yeah, it’s me — eyes up here.”

You swallow in a breath, and then another, and you feel the bright thrum of urgency leave you as your body slowly falls slack. And then you’re slipping, and he’s looping an arm around you to keep you upright.

“Th-they’re here — they —”

“They’re gone — we got rid of them — hey.”

Zoro takes you by the shoulders and gives you a gentle shake. Finally, your eyes catch on his and your gaze holds. You see yourself reflected in them, stark and terrified, but alive — somehow alive.

“They’re gone,” he says, his voice soft and low by your ear, his arm still wrapped around your middle. Shivers wrack your body as you bury your face in his shoulder. He smells of steel and skin and the metallic tang of blood. It’s then that you remember — the wounds on the sides of his neck. The marks in the shape of your hands —

You jerk back and feel a sticky wetness against your cheek.

“Zoro, I hurt you!”

At this, he scoffs, pulling back far enough to flash you a look.

“This is nothing. C’mon.”

He offers you a hand, and after a second you take it, letting him pull you to your feet. Wordlessly, he presses his palm to the small of your back, his arm extended to keep you steady as you both make your way back towards camp.

“Phew! That was a workout!” Luffy is saying just as you both reach the outskirts of the now-darkened bonfire. Sanji is pulling out a cigarette, striking a match, and first lighting the end before tossing it into the remains of the firewood, fanning it up into a slow flame.

Nami and Usopp both look a bit shaken, but none worse for the wear.

They all pivot to look at you.

You go still against Zoro’s side, uncertainty flooding through you. Faintly, you feel Zoro’s fingers as they press into the bend of your waist, solid and steady.

Then, Usopp coughs, “C’mon y’all — the Shadows that Live? Psh! More like — the Shadows that Fled, am I right? Yeah? Didya see the way I sent ‘em runnin’ with my brand new fire-powered explosion rounds?”

Nami chuckles and Sanji follows suit, shaking his head and letting out a thin wisp of smoke. Luffy’s grins at you, pumping a fist in the air, clapping his right shoulder.

“See? Told you we’d have your back! We are your crew, after all!”

Weakness seeps into your limbs as you nod, hot pin-pricks of tears itching at your lower lashes. You lower your head and rub at your eyes before looking back up again with a smile. Sanji grimaces as he looks over Zoro.

“Got something on your neck, mate.”

Zoro glares but you glance over and feel your stomach twist with guilt.

“Sorry… I can clean that up for you. They’re not deep but they do need to be bandaged up.”

Zoro wipes down his sword before sheathing it and motioning towards the ship. Behind you, you can hear Nami yawning and saying something about catching up on some more sleep and Sanji reassuring her about having the last watch anyway.

The kitchen is still dark, but the dusty dawn sweeps against the far horizon and neither of you bother to turn the lights on. You carefully set the first aid kit on the kitchen counter and collect the supplies as Zoro leans back against the edge and folds his arms. You work in near silence, reaching up to first wipe the thin threads of drying blood before tending to the tiny, crescent-shaped puncture wounds.

You press an alcohol-soaked cotton ball against one of them and feel Zoro wince.

“Sorry.”

“I’m fine.”

You bite your lips, “If this had been a bit deeper or a few inches over —”

“But it wasn’t. So it’s fine.”

You don’t look up at him but you can feel his eyes on you. Your movements are fluid and sure; you’d clearly done this before.

“Hey, look at me.”

You freeze, eyes slowly gliding up the planes and divots of his neck, slipping up the line of his jaw, so sharp it might’ve been turned on a diamond cutter’s lathe. Your breath hitches as you finally meet his eyes, and there’s a dark, knowing glint behind them that makes your stomach flip.

“I’m fine.”

And for the second time in a handful of hours, you’re caught by the realization of your closeness — only a breath of space between you. There’s a crimp at the corner of his mouth that looks dangerously like a smile and then you’re tipping forward, a thumb reaching up to trace the line of his bottom lip once —

The movement acts like a trigger, and suddenly, he is leaning in and the breath of space disappears.

For all your life of stillness, you thought you’d learned to appreciate the depths and widths of movement. But nothing could’ve prepared you for this — for the push and pull of lips on lips, for the force and friction of skin against skin. For the gasp and hiss, for the breath and kiss.

For the feeling of his large palm as it settles along the swallow’s-nest bend of your neck, the way his thumb runs along your jaw like tracing the guard of his beloved sword, tilting your mouth towards him. For the way your heart might flutter like a tiny, caged bird, or the way you might feel his heart thumping like a fist from his chest to yours.

For the way his voice rolls over your name like a ship at sea; for the way it would shake your body from your bones and leave you more liquid than solid in his arms. For how you never used to think your story would be a love story, but then you realize that every story is a love story if caught in the right moment, in the right light.

And here, breaking apart from Zoro, with a thick, stolen streak of lemon-yellow sunlight leaking in from the kitchen window — that’s exactly what it feels like.

“Oh,” is all you have the strength to say.

Zoro, in all his solid brilliance and quiet audacity, laughs.

You taste the smile on your own lips before you realize you’re smiling. But when you try to bury your face in his neck, he winces slightly as you brush his still-fresh wounds.

“Crap, I forgot about these.”

Zoro chuckles as you hurry to press a few small bandages to the wounds.

“It’s okay. So did I.”

You finish dressing his wounds in silence, though this silence is markedly different from every other silence that had ever existed between you. There’s ease and tension, both, and when you’re finally finished, Zoro takes both your hands in his.

“So…” you say, unsure suddenly of where to look.

Zoro’s laugh is just as soft, just as uncertain.

“So.”

You try to look out the window, but by now, the dawning sun is so bright that it temporarily blinds you and you jerk back. Zoro smiles, reaching up to run his thumbs along your closed eyelids before dropping them to hook around your wrists again.

“Do you… wanna talk about it?” he asks, quiet as always.

You purse your lips and let your lashes flutter open. You find him watching you. Heat crests up your shoulders and into your cheeks, and suddenly, the exhaustion of the night before saps at your limbs. You sigh.

“Right now? Not really.”

“Yeah, neither do I,” he says, sounding as relieved as you feel.

You bite your lips and cast your gaze shyly across his face, your bird-wing heartbeat still flapping in your chest. You fight the urge to go still, to reach for that shield that has always protected you before. Faintly, you feel Zoro’s thumbs tracing circles along the insides of your wrists.

“Can I ask for something else, though?”

“What is it?”

You reach up a finger, nudging one of his golden earrings. You don’t miss the way he shivers, or the way his breath quickens in his chest.

“Kiss me again.”

Zoro grins, tugging you towards him, leaning into the curve of your palm as he does.

And does.

And does again.

reqs are: temporarily closed

but feedback is much loved and appreciated!!!

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luveline · 7 months

Note

What about a lil fic of the first time bombshell reader gets mad at Spencer? Like it can be while they r dating or before and May be r is giving Spencer quiet treatment?

ty for requesting! ♡ fem, 1.3k

Spencer waits for Morgan to get up for a coffee before he gets up himself, tailing his teasing teammate to the microwave. He's hoping Morgan's in a sympathetic mood today, because Spencer is in dire need of some sympathy.

"Loverboy," Morgan says, his voice steeped in suspicion. "Can I help you with something?"

"Do you know why Y/N's upset?"

"You don't? You're the expert."

Spencer rubs at his nose, the beginning of another migraine brewing between his eyes. The gesture draws a little more empathy than his misguided question.

"You're gonna have to ask her yourself. I don't want her angry at me too, she's gonna fix my computer before Garcia finds out I fell for her phishing email test."

"I've been asking her. It's making it worse. She won't answer my questions anymore. She just hums."

"Silent treatment. Yikes." Morgan sips his tea through a grimace. "I mean, you must've done something bad. She's usually so–"

"Lovely?"

"–in love with you." Morgan laughs as he wanders off in the direction of the stairs up to Hotch's office. "Same thing."

Spencer decides to make a cup of bribery tea for you. He microwaves a mug of hot water and plunks a bag of your favourite blend in without ceremony, bobbing it up and down as he watches you from over his shoulder. You've moved desks upon request to sit with the rest of the team and opposite Spencer (against Hotch's self-proclaimed better judgement), your things set carefully in contrast to his books, a library's worth teeming on every spare inch. Some have even made their way onto your desk, pristinely stacked in wait of his perusal. It's one small gesture among the hundreds of kind things you do for him.

"Here," he says, setting the mug down next to your mouse carefully.

Your anger strikes him. Eyes frosted with an uneasiness he's not partial to, lips, so perfectly painted, screwed into a frown. It's not nice seeing someone he cares about upset with him, worse when he has no idea what it is he's done.

"You're annoyed at me," he says. You wait for him to continue. "I don't know what I did."

"That makes it worse." You frown at him. After a few seconds of this—your frowning, his looking sorry and confused— you sigh wretchedly (as in, he's never heard you sound that sad, ever, and he hates it). "Spencer, you stood me up."

Everything in him goes cold. "No I didn't."

Your sad frown melds again to anger. "Yes you did! I– I got my hair done at a salon, I bought a new dress, I bragged to all of my friends that my cute coworker was gonna be my date, and none of that mattered because you didn't text me back so I was worried sick all night that you were," —your voice drops to a private whisper— "in trouble somewhere, and then you come into work like nothing happened? Not even a hint of an apology? I thought you wanted to come."

Your voice burns with embarrassment. Spencer can feel it in his throat, that plucky ache of someone letting you down.

"That was last night?" he asks quietly. A friend asked you to their charity ball, not as ridiculously fancy as it sounds but an occasion of esteem and important to you nonetheless. "Y/N, I thought that was– I have it in my phone as next month. As November. I'm so sorry."

"Why didn't you answer my texts?"

He winces. "I had a migraine… Screens make it worse, and I haven't charged the battery yet because I was coming to work anyways I'm sorry, Y/N, really. I mixed it up. I should've asked you."

You seem less disheartened at his admission. You cross your arms over your abdomen and lean back a touch in your chair, as if deciding whether he's being truthful. Spencer isn't in the habit of lying to you and anybody could tell you that, so after a few seconds you look away. "I asked you if you were excited yesterday morning. I told you my dress came."

"I know." He can't believe he's gotten it wrong like this. Anyone can make a mistake, but he imagines you in your new dress with your hair done waiting for him in the cold weather that descended on Virginia last night and his guts twist into a knot. "I didn't piece it together. I didn't… I didn't…"

Spencer can't remember the last time he let someone he loves down like this. His migraine spikes again like a needle in the eye, fiery agony that has him closing his eyes to cope.

"Spencer," you say, softly admonishing. "Hey, it's okay." Your chair creaks.

"I'm so sorry," he says through his teeth.

"I thought you were being a jerk, but I guess I should've known you wouldn't do something like that." You stand up and take his elbow into a very gentle hand. "I'm sorry for giving you the cold shoulder. It was childish. I was just hurt thinking you did it on purpose."

"Sorry," he says again. "Migraine."

Your hand rises to his cheek. "Yeah? Sit down, Spence. Take a breather."

The doctors say that Spencer's migraines are psychosomatic. He doesn't get how something so odious can start from nothing.

You seem twice as upset but in a different light, ushering him down into your chair. "Don't worry," you say softly, your hand falling into his hair, "I took a great picture. You can still see me in my nice dress."

You're kidding but he's genuinely glad. Then the pain takes over and he can't see the other side of it for years.

It only feels like years.

When he can open his eyes, you've knelt by his chair. He hates to see you getting your pants dirty like that, hates worse that your eyebrows have pinched and the soft plane of your forehead has etched deep with concern.

"You can still be mad at me," he says under his breath.

"I'm a little upset," you confess, putting an uncharacteristically tentative hand on his knee. "It sucked, but not as much as this seems to suck for you." You're like an angel, all pretty and wide-eyed at his feet, your hand beginning a short path up his leg, a soft back and forth. "I'm sorry Spencer. I was punishing you for something that wasn't your fault."

"You didn't know. How could you, I–" He winces as another wave of pain flares behind his eye, blurring your small smile. "I should've charged my phone."

"Maybe. I can't imagine you had the capacity, Spence. Not if you're like this."

"Don't just forgive me because I'm in pain."

"I'm not, I'm forgiving you because even though it really hurt my feelings turning up alone, I'm not cruel enough to blame you now." You squeeze his knee. It's an instant balm, the chronic ache behind his eyes easing ever so slightly. Your forgiveness makes the rest bearable. "Can you forgive me for being so heartless?" you ask lightly.

Your lips curve demurely around each word. Spencer scrambles to cover your hand with both of his, his neck craned forward. "Of course I forgive you."

"Thank you." Spencer could collapse. "Drink some of this tea, okay? Maybe drinking something will help."

Nothing ever helps, but he does it because it's your hands bringing the cup to his lips.

"I know you looked beautiful," he says between sips.

"I would've looked better on your arm. Too bad you're getting grievously attacked by your own brain. This is what happens when it gets too big, babe, it's trying to come out of your ears." He's a little sorry to have won you back this way, but mostly so, so relieved. "Anymore of this'll and you'll start messing up the months. Oh, wait!" You laugh as he laughs but soon scramble to apologise when the sound makes his head hurt. "Sorry, I'm sorry! Drink some more tea, sweetheart."

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid scenario #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #criminal minds x reader

2K notes · View notes

nezuscribe · 1 year

Text

𝙚𝙖𝙨𝙮 𝙤𝙣 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙚𝙮𝙚𝙨

pairing: miguel o’hara x fem!reader

summary: he’s just too pretty for somebody so stoic. thankfully he’s able to show off for you, knowing just how much you like it. he’s just so easy on the eyes

warnings: 18+ mdni, smut, teasing from miguel, not proofread so sorry for any typos

there’s just something irresistible about miguel o’hara. he knows it. it’s a fact so sure as day that a part of his own hidden cockiness comes from the fact that he feels the eyes travel across the large span of his body, taking in his sheer size as they dart away when he catches them staring.

but despite the fact that his enormous ego (and his even bigger attitude) derive from some of this attention, there’s really only one person who he cares for to seal the deal.

you were so nice to him, a large smile greeting him whenever he came into work. it was off putting at first; how somebody could be so cheerful in the morning when everybody seemed to move as though awoken from the dead.

but slowly you warmed up to him, and he doesn’t know why, but he knows that he treats you differently than the rest of them.

his words were softer when they were directed at you, a rare and honestly almost non-existent smile on his face whenever you told him about what you had planned for the rest of his week with such excitement that he almost forgot what his job was.

and he’d be lying if he didn’t say that the way you looked up at him with so much admiration and care in your eyes didn’t do anything to him. he’d also be a blind man if the way you gnawed on your lip, cheeks puffing out in jealously when one of the assistants blatantly flirted with him didn’t send blood rushing straight to his dick.

so it was no surprise that “meetings” in his office became more and more frequent, his paperwork skewed to the side as he made room for you on his desk, your legs wrapping around his waist as you hungrily kissed him like you hadn’t seen him in weeks (it’s been days since you last saw him).

“missed you,” you murmured against his skin, tugging his suit down as he made quick work at throwing your blouse to the side, expertly opening up your bra clasp with one hand as he moved back up to press a sloppy and wet kiss to your lips, nodding feverishly in agreement.

it didn’t take long for him to tug your pants and underwear off, groaning at the slick that connected to your panties, the smell almost knocking him to his knees as you waited (somewhat impatiently given your stance) for him to do what he wanted with you.

“f-fuck,” you whimper into his skin, tears filling up your waterline as he slowly and in a calculated manner drags his arms down your torso, his claws drawing out goosebumps in their wake, “hurry up.” you groan, impatient at the obvious way he’s edging you.

he flashes you his fangs in a faux debonair smile, a strand of his hair falling into his face as he looks up at you, his large hands holding your mound are you writhe in pure need.

“needy much?” he muttered, pressing hot kisses just above your clit, where he knows it’s going to drive you crazy, “my pretty girl’s already too dumbed out to answer, hm? haven’t even done much yet sweetheart, y’know?” he mutters, his fingers making obscene sounds as they slowly enter in you with much ease, seeing how you were already dripping seeing him in that ridiculously tight suit.

you watch him from under your lashes, your mouth watering at the sight in front of you.

he cocked a brow, noticing just how much you were watching him, more than usual, and he smugly grinned as your nose scrunched up in annoyance and embarrassment, throwing an arm across your face to hide from his heated gaze.

“can i help you hermosa?” he traveled upward with a small tap on your clit, moving his fingers to grasp your chin, tilting your head upwards to meet his eyes, blown out in sheer need and want for you as his nose bumps against yours.

“pretty,” you murmured against his lips, feeling the plushness of them against your own as your hands moved up to feel the large expanse of muscle, your nails raking down his skin, leaving light marks in a sort of territorial manner, “so handsome miguel.” you say, and although others have said the same thing, it only mattered when it came from your mouth.

he chuckled, pecking your lips as he moved slightly downward, angling your jaw up with his nose as he found purchase on your neck, inhaling in your scent as he almost went delirious.

“you butter me up too much sweetheart, ‘specially when you’re lookin’ like this in front of me.” he murmurs, a bit in awe and never getting tired of this as he pumps himself a little bit, too amped up to wait that much longer.

sweet, you always smelled so fucking sweet.

he made haste at biting and sucking, your whines only going straight to his hard cock, making it ache in leak in pre as he marked up your chest, tits, rolling your nipples between his shark teeth as you moaned out pathetically for him.

he was gorgeous like this; his lips swollen and red, cheeks pink as eyes estranged as he marked you all for himself. he was always like this after a mission, no matter how well it went. all that pent up frustration and adrenaline would be directed to you, and you had absolutely no qualms with that.

his fingers found your fluttering walls and found them even wetter than before, knowing you too needed him just as bad as he needed you, and he waisted not a second more as he lined his angry tip with your pretty pussy, moaning like he was in heat at the feeling, knowing he wouldn’t be able to last that long in you, especially after not seeing you for as many days as he was gone.

“i’m ready m-miguel, just please fuck me, p-please.” you whisper, your hands finding his dick as you guided him in, the two of you moaning and throwing your heads back in pleasure as he begins to sink into your warmth.

“my girl,” he says, his thumb finding your swollen clit as he rubs, picking up his pace after a few seconds of letting you adjust to his size, “my girl.” he says again, but his grip tightens on your hip at his possessive tone. he missed you just as much as you missed him, and he needed for you to know that even if he’s not the best with words.

his dick rubs along your walls, dragging in and out at the most delicious pace, hitting that spot that makes your walls tighten around him and your legs to wrap around his waist to pull him in even more.

there was no space in between you two, your heavy and hot breaths hitting each other as you feverishly kiss him again, needing to be connected with him in every way possible, moaning against his lips as he angles himself just right to hit your sweet spot in an even better way.

“s’good, so good, mhh fuck!” you whine, nails digging into his shoulder, your lips catching between his sharp teeth, piercing the soft skin just enough to draw a little blood, and he grins at the sight.

“you’re doin’ great babe, perfect for me, god,” his voice is rough, raspy as he feels his release coming at such speed, “you’re mine, need so much.” he mutters and you nod, throwing your head back in clear pleasure, letting him lick a strip up your neck, his pace quickening as the two of you reach your highs.

he pulls out just in time, finishing in spurts across your chest, and you spasm, missing his dick as you clutch onto his biceps to steady yourself, back arching at the feeling that nobody else but him could give you.

your chests move in synch, trying to catch your breaths as sweat dots your forehead, coming back from your high as you smile at him, feeling a swell of pride knowing that he only lets you see him in such a debauched way.

“i’ll have lyla clear my schedule for the day,” he tells himself, glancing over at you as he pulls you closer to his chest as he runs his finger to your lips, grinning at how pliant you are, letting him drop a wad of spit onto your tongue, waiting for his next words as he moves his finger down, tapping your chin to close, “need to show you just how much i missed you.”

#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x reader smut #miguel o'hara imagine #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara x you smut #miguel o'hara smut #spider man: into the spider verse #miguel x reader #miguel o'hara oneshot

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foervraengd · 10 months

Text

Mirre’s “How i render gemstones” tutorial!

(note: image above is not what is shown in the walkthrough. It is an example piece)

Ingredients:

Art program that has layers and selection tools

Patience (hubris or stubbornness is fine too)

(recommended) photo references of gemstones and/or prisms

(Optional but very helpful) Knowledge on how to use Reference layers and anti-overflow in Clip studio Paint

For this tutorial i am going to use clip studio’s “anti-overflow” feature. This post is not going to explain how to use that specific setting but you should be able to find guides on how to use it on clip studio’s official website or on youtube.

Please Note: The result of this technique will not 100% represent real life gemstones. These are more simplified but should still make an impression of the brilliance and appeal of gems, crystals and diamonds.

If you don’t work in CSP: the best workaround is to use the polygonal lasso selection tool for the same purpose.

This ended up being a long post so I am putting it under the readmore:

First off; Basic idea on how the light refracts inside a solid transparent object:

Wether it is acrylic, glass, water or crystal, the way light pass through more or less should behave the same as long as it is solid and not hollow inside. Pay attention to how the darkest parts of the stone goes along the inner edges, leaving a ”mid tone” sort of in the center. However, this might vary depending on the light setting. But it is a generally good rule-of-thumb to follow if you’re drawing something not based on a photo. Another thing to pay attention to here is how the placement of the highlight will lit up the inside of the gem in a parallel line. It also shows through on the cast shadow.

Light refraction on a cube:

I have already made two posts on this, so definitely go through them:

CUBE BREAKDOWN POST HERE

But a rough summary from those two links would be: Every side/facet of a gem or a cube etc refracts the light individually and not as one entity (that would make it look hollow and not solid). Think of it like how each piece in a broken mirror individually reflect your face back to you. Like a weird patchwork!

Putting this into practice:

For this tutorial I’m going to be nice to myself and not try to draw perfectly accurate gemstones. Instead I’m gonna draw them with a more ”natural” looking set of facets. Which actually isnt as common in real world as video games makes us think. Some crystals have geometric shapes naturally, but a lot of other stones are not as fancy. Anyway, im taking artistic liberty on these example stones because the technique I’m going to use will work for these just fine.

So, in clip studio paint, I first draw the stones on a vector layer. I give them facets for the front side. Then I duplicate the layer, remove the front facets and replace them with the facets on the back of the stone. The third image here shows both layers visible on top of each other. I now put these into a layer folder and mark the folder as ”reference”.

Now, on a layer below the lineart folder, fill with your base tone. Then make a layer on top (if you can clip it to the base tone, do that), this layer is where you decide where the highlight will be placed. In some cases the highlight is only lighting up one single facet - it really depends on the design of the stone. You can also blend and soften the highlight here if it looks good for you, just make sure not every facet is highlighted. The highlight layer should be on top of all the other layers clipped to the base tone layer.

Now it is time for the juicy juicy stuff! Turn on both lineart layers so they’re both visible. I hid the hilight layer here because it was in the way, but might not be needed in your case. Make a layer clipped to the base tone and paint in the darkest tone. This is where anti-overflow helps me out, because when i run my brush over all these crossed lines it will make the stroke pop in and out for each facet. If you dont use CSP, this is where you can use the lasso tool and select every second facet. It will take a bit more time but it should work similarly.

After the darkest tones I then make a layer for the inside light that the highlight has lit up. Here i keep it inside the darkest tone but this might vary depending on the light setting. If it looks good to me, then that’s what i stick to.

The way I approach rendering the facets here is like the grid in the example images above, every shade and tone appear more or less in each facet but the amount is relative to their position. So a gradient wouldnt have a smooth transition; it would be slightly scewed in each square on this example grid. Essentially like how some bathroom window glass panes look like.

Now it’s time to hide the lineart layer folder and check if the gemstones look decent to you. If not, then you can look up some reference photos and analyze where the values group together the most; be careful not to focus too much on the photos 500 million sparkles. Squint your eyes or blur the reference and try to see how the overall values behae.

I, personally, am satisfied with these rocks so I slap on a gradient map (you can manually color in them too if that’s your thing) and call it a day. The lit up inside of a gemstone tend to have a brighter and more saturated color than the mid tone.

Other Examples with this technique:

If you look up ”gemstone types” you can often find images displaying various facet types from more than just front view. These can serve as useful base templates for practicing this rendering technique. The backside of a gemstone is called the “pavillion” and is really useful to have at hand when it comes to painting the inner refractions. You can probably also use 3D models and convert the wireframe into lineart. But that is slightly out of my pool of knowledge.

Applying this knowledge without using a base lineart layer is of course possible. In this painting I followed a simplified summary of how the facets sparkle: Keep the highlight shape to match the front facet design, and all the inner refractions should be more scattered and split up but face a direction towards the center of the gem. Now don’t you think this sort of makes the gems look like eyes? That’s right! You can, and absolutely should, apply this on eyes to create the most sparkly anime eyes ever.

Now, refracted light that lands on the surface surrounding gemstones varies depending on the material - and if the gem is inside a metal frame it usually doesnt create this much refraction around it. But I want to have fun so i decided to break this rule in the name of pretty sparkles. :)

#tutorial #art tutorial #protip #gem tutorial #undescribed #some images have id but not all of them

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talaok · 5 months

Text

A gentleman

This is my gift to @lucyeyelesbarrow for the Pedrostories Secret Santa event💖

Pairing: bfd!Joel Miller x f!reader

Summary: Your boyfriend is a good guy, but he's not so good at sex, but thankfully, his dad makes up for it

Warnings: smut| Cheating, kinda exhibitionism, oral sex (f receiving), a bit of fingering, unprotected p in v sex, creampie, no use of y/n just overuse of pet names, no use of Joel either, just Mr. Miller and sir (so naturally we've got a bit of a sir kink).

a/n: babe you said slut by Taylor and i ran with it. also, this didn't turn out as good as I wanted, but nevertheless, I hope you'll like it. And huge thanks to @decembermidnight cause this idea is basically (completely) hers so give her some love or smth.

Jason was a good guy,

he was such a good guy, always so kind, always gentle and respectful... everything any girl could ever dream of, right?

wrong

He should have been, he really should have been the perfect man, but he wasn't.

He wasn't a man, he was just a boy

A really nice, sweet, cute boy that had just one, little, big problem... he fucked like one.

He fucked like he was scared of breaking you, actually, no he didn't fuck at all... he made love, which would have been fine... if it wasn't for the fact that he wasn't any good at it.

Every time you had sex he lasted no more than a few minutes (on his good days) and it was always just the same, always missionary, always slow and breathy and just not... right.

And it's not like you hadn't tried, god knows how many times you had, you tried changing positions, switching up his thrusting method, or even asking him to go down on you, but the outcome was always the same... you were left unsatisfied, every. single time.

You had even gone as far as starting to wonder if perhaps the problem was you, but then again every time you were alone everything worked just fine.

And as perfect as he was, there's only as much a girl can take.

You needed sex, the real kind, you needed to get fucked good, by a man who didn't need instructions, by someone who wasn't afraid to take what he wanted, by a man, you needed a real man.

And perhaps you'd always had one in mind.

You were in the kitchen, the fridge open, the cool air hardening your nipples, just a tiny white tank top on you, no bra, only a pair of panties.

You came down here to get a drink, but your focus had shifted to your fingers beneath your panties, drawing fast circles on your clit.

And yes it was pathetic, masturbating in a kitchen that wasn't even yours, but your body was desperate for that orgasm your boyfriend had deprived you of not even 10 minutes ago.

You were caging your bottom lip between your teeth, trying not to make a sound, but as all your emphasis went there, you must have stopped listening for anyone coming and missed the footsteps stomping down the stairs.

"I thought you'd be aslee-"

his eyes widened as he finally took you in

"shit I'm sorry darlin'-" he apologized, his eyes diverting a moment too late, only after they had taken you in completely, only after they had taken a good glimpse of your tits, and of the hand in your underwear.

To say you were red was an understatement.

He was there, the man you were just thinking of (although you had tried to refrain) was there, right in front of you, in all his broadness and glory, looking every bit of hot as ever,

him, your boyfriend's dad,

Mr. Miller had just caught you masturbating while standing in his kitchen.

"I'm sorry, I wasn't-I was just-I needed water and I-"

You finally rushed your trembling fingers out of your panties, your chest heaving and your voice breaking.

"No need to apologize sweetheart" he shook his head, his gaze finding yours "'s alright"

And although you were half naked, his eyes remained on yours.

Because that's how he was, that's how Mr. Miller was,

He was a gentleman,

In a world of boys, he was a gentleman.

Just like that time he caught you just out of the shower, just as every time he wouldn't let you open your own door, not on his watch, just as every dinner, every expense, every single thing, was his treat, and he didn't need a thank you, he did it because that's simply how he did things, how he'd been taught to treat women.

You watched each other for a moment, you panicking, him as calm as ever, and only after a good minute, did you finally feel brave enough to say something,

"I-I think I'll go-"

He frowned, "didn't you come here to get a drink?"

You swallowed, realizing your hands were empty "I-I did, you're right"

You opened the fridge again, and to the demise of your heart, he stepped closer, watching you like a hawk from above, and stealing all the air out of your lungs.

"What were you doing sweetheart?"

You swore you could have started crying right there and then.

Did he really just ask that?

Why the fuck would he ever ask that?

"I-I wasn't- I wasn't doing anything, Mr. Miller"

He tried to hide the smirk crawling on his lips, but a shadow of it still appeared

"now we both know that ain't true, darlin'" he smiled, as you took a bottle of water and closed the fridge to try and keep your brain occupied by something else other than this fucking man.

You took a deep breath, looking up at him.

Your bottom lip was between your front teeth, and with his thumb, he freed it, his hand lingering on your chin.

"there's no need to be shy" he murmured, his voice as sweet as honey "I just wanna help"

And as always, as always his touch melted you completely, like ice in the August sun.

"M-Mr. Miller-"

"yes, doll?"

only hearing him call you that made your breathing hitch.

"I..."

"just tell me," his voice was as low and hot as it could be "I won't judge"

And then, for some reason, you did, You told him the truth.

maybe he had put a spell on you, or maybe, just maybe, you would have done anything this man asked for.

"I was- I was touching myself"

But of course he knew, you could see it all over his face as he nodded, his eyes now a shade darker.

"and why's that?" he asked, stepping an inch closer,

you took a step back to get out of his penetrating aura, just to realize he had confined you between the table and his body with nowhere else to go.

"my son's just upstairs" he continued, his eyes scrutinizing every inch of your face "Couldn't he have helped with that?"

You gulped as his fingers gently moved some hair out of your face, making you shiver altogether

"I know if I were him, I would want nothing more than to do just that" he murmured "I would want to pleasure you in any way I could" and then, as if he'd gotten back to himself, to the respectful gentleman you'd always known, he dropped his hand, "so why were you touching yourself, sweetheart?"

What were you supposed to say?

That his son couldn't do it?

That in 3 months of dating, he'd made you come a total of 0 times?

Now that's not really a conversation you wanted to have with his father, was it?

"I was just- I- I don't know Mr. Miller" you lied

But he saw right through you, his head shaking in disapproval

"but you do know, doll" he urged "There's gotta be a reason"

And then it clicked.

He knew. Somehow he fucking knew.

"I-I-" you stuttered "It's just that Jason... he- he can't-"

but you couldn't end that sentence, how could you ever?

So of course, he did it for you.

"He can't make you come"

And the darkness was back again, the gentleman long gone.

"ain't that right?"

You could only offer a shy nod

"a pretty thing like you..." he murmured, his breath tickling your skin as he leaned closer, "and he's not taking care of you..." he tsked "Now that's a shame"

his hands were on your waist, holding you in place.

"I thought I'd taught him how to treat a woman... guess I was wrong" he shook his head "I mean look at you," he murmured "he should be making you come until you can't take it anymore"

"Mr. Miller-" you whimpered

"yes sugar"

"please" you begged, not exactly knowing for what

"Please what?" he asked, his right hand stroking your sides "you want somethin' from me?"

"I-I" you stumbled over your own words, not knowing how to get them out "Could you- could you please do it?"

He smirked properly at that, his left hand lowering down your belly

"do what?"

"you know" you breathed "You know what"

He inhaled your scent, his eyes still focused on yours "Say it" he ordered "Say it and I'll do it"

And what could you have done, if not exactly what he'd just said

"Please Mr. Miller" you pleaded "please make me come"

His fingers were beneath your panties before you could get another word out.

"Ah-" you gasped

"shhh" he shushed you, "Don't worry darlin'" he murmured "I'm here, I'll take care of you" he said, his big hand cupping your whole pussy

"look at that" he grinned, his mouth ghosting yours "she's already wet f'me”

A gasp fled your throat again as his finger seeped between your folds, gathering your slick and teasing your hole just to travel up to your clit

“Mmm” he hummed “so wet doll” he shook his head, smiling devilishly “are you always like this for me?” he asked, “For your boyfriend’s father?“

And although the fact that you could feel his hard cock against your thighs made that taunt more than a little hypocritical, you still couldn’t help but feel a little ashamed.

“Answer me” he urged, his lips now grazing yours

“Yes” you confessed, your voice nothing more than a whisper “I-I am Mr. Miller”

He groaned at that

He knew it was wrong, that everything about this was wrong, but he’d be lying if he said he hadn’t thought about this, if he said hearing you call him Mr. Miller with that sweet voice of yours every day didn't make his cock half hard, if he said that from the moment he met you, he hadn't been jealous of his own son.

"here's how this is gonna work sweetheart" he breathed, his fingers gripping the edge of your panties "I'm gonna taste you now... because fuck me, but I need to-" he explained, slowly lowering your underwear "And you..." he smiled, your panties suddenly on the ground "you're gonna be a good girl and stay quiet"

His lips lowered from right next to your ear, onto your pulse point

"Can you do that f'me?"

A little squeak left your mouth, and a deep chuckle rumbled from his chest

"Can you be a good girl f'me, doll?"

You didn't trust yourself with words, so all you did was nod

"good" he hummed, his lips on your clavicle "Now get on the table"

And so you did, you hopped on the table, and he kneeled before you, his hands on your thighs.

"Spread your legs sugar" he said, having you obliging immediately

A soft appreciative sound erupted from his throat.

"prettiest pussy I've ever seen" he purred, leaning closer to it "on the prettiest girl I've ever seen"

Your belly was moving up and down in sync with your erratic breathing, but he didn't seem to care, his only focus was between your legs.

he looked as if he did this every day, as if fucking his son's girlfriend was an everyday thing.

He started off slow, his lips meeting the inside of your thighs, then your mound, then your lips, and then, just when you felt a moment away from bursting, his tongue came to play, as he licked between your folds without care, groaning in pleasure at the taste of you.

"Delicious" he hummed "You're fucking delicious doll" he looked at you, continuing to do so even when his hands gripped your thighs, and his talented muscle teased your hole, making you gasp and forcing your right hand to his hair.

"Does he do this?" he couldn't stop himself from asking "Does he eat this pretty pussy sweetheart?"

"n-no" you managed to whisper as he continued his work, now savoring you entirely while deliberately avoiding your clit.

"Now that's just wrong," he said, his eyes unfocusing from yours and lowering to your heat for a moment "look at that" he murmured, watching mesmerized as your juices drenched his mouth "I could eat this pussy for every meal"

And that was it, he was done with teasing all of a sudden, his lips were on your clit, sucking it deliciously as fingers you didn't even notice having gone from your leg thrust into you with ease.

"O-Oh s-shit" you moaned, although trying not to do so.

"quiet sweetheart" he shushed you, going back to his work in a moment

His fingers were now curling upwards, finding that spot that made you see stars like he knew your body better than yourself, or certainly, better than his son.

His tongue was alternating between lapping at your clit and sucking on it, and he expected you to not make a sound? now that was just impossible.

"oh my god" you gripped his hair, his fingers speeding up "o-oh my god-Mr. Miller- i-it feels so good"

"I know it does" he answered "I can feel it, sweetheart"

And then he was back at work, and as you watched enchanted how perfect he looked between your thighs, his hair a mess, his eyes so dark they didn't even seem brown anymore... you felt it, you felt the orgasm approach faster than it ever had, embarrassingly fast one could say, but then again, it certainly wasn't your fault, Mr. Miller knew what he was doing.

"I-I think-" you cried

"I know" he didn't need you to finish "Let go f'me, doll"

And so you did, you bit your lip and threw your head back as an orgasm powerful enough to kill you took over your body, leaving you a whimpering, wobbly mess.

"fucking delicious" he groaned, selfishly licking your core once again before he was back up to you, watching as you breathed heavily into the air.

"felt good?"

"yeah," you smiled mindlessly "felt amazing Mr. Miller"

"good enough to want another one?"

You didn't need to think twice

"yes" you breathed, one of your arms going between his neck as you begged him, while the other found the bulge in his boxers "please" you swallowed "Please fuck me"

"you want my cock?" he asked, already freeing it from his briefs "is that it?"

"yes," you whimpered,

"how much?"

"a lot" you promised "I want it so much Mr. Miller, please"

"yeah?" he taunted, positioning it at your entrance

"yeah-" you managed before he had pushed into you, making such a feeling erupt in you that you forgot all about your boyfriend upstairs and cried loudly because fuck it, but he was so fucking big.

His hand covered your mouth before you had even realized what had happened.

"I thought you said you were gonna be good"

Your eyes widened as your pussy still tried to accommodate the importance of him

A muffled "I'm sorry" made it to his ears

"I wouldn't wanna have to stop"

"no" you begged immediately "no please don't stop" You shook your head, so desperate you would have felt pathetic if it wasn't that you weren't thinking about anything anymore besides your pleasure, besides him, besides this, whatever it was.

"if I take this off you you'll be quiet?" he asked, nodding to his hand

"yes," you nodded "yes, sir, please"

Sir?

Fuck

If his cock could have gotten harder it would have.

"alright then" he conceded, taking his hand away "Can I move sweetheart?"

"mh-mh" you hummed, nodding eagerly

a soft grin spread over his face at that, but before you could fully take in the beauty of it, of him, of his patchy salt and pepper beard and pink lips, he had done as you asked, and started moving

"fuck" you whimpered "y-you're so big"

The implication behind your words hit you only after having pronounced them, but he was kind enough not to comment on it.

"and yet you're taking me all like a good girl" he groaned "taking all of my cock inside this tight little pussy of yours"

His right hand got rid of your tank top, pulling it down until your boobs spilled from it so he could grab and grope at them freely while his thrusts got faster, and somehow, somehow even fucking deeper, and you were just- god you were in another universe, and right when you shut your eyes, your forehead falling to his in bliss, another moan escaped you, and his hand found your lips again

"What did I tell you sweetheart?" he grunted, his pace not slowing down "I need you to stay quiet" he explained again "I need you to be good and not make a sound so I can fuck you like you nee-"

"Babe?"

Your heart skipped a beat.

It was his voice, your boyfriend's voice, coming from upstairs

"babe, is everything alright?"

Your eyes widened and his movements stopped as you stared into each other's eyes for a moment

What do I do? What do I do? what the fuck do I do?

"answer him," Joel said, freeing your mouth without any further explanation.

"I-" you mumbled

"do it sweetheart, or he's gonna come down here, and I don't think either of us want that"

And so of course, you did

"I-I'm fine!" you yelled

"are you sure?"

And just when you were about to answer, his fingers materialized on your clit, circling it.

You gasped, widening your eyes at him

"answer" he commanded, not stopping, the opposite actually, starting his thrusts again "Answer him doll"

"b-but"

"just do it" he murmured "Tell him you're sure"

You gulped, breathing heavily,

"I'm sure!"

"Ok"

And just like that, as if it were a miracle, Jason stopped his questioning, and you hid your face into the crook of Joel's neck, biting his skin as his pace fastened again, making that fucking feeling his son couldn't create take over your whole belly again.

"Mr Miller- oh my god" you cried, actual tears threatening to spill your eyes at the feeling

"shh" he cooed "I know sweetheart I know" he felt your walls tighten around him as the fingers in your hair gripped his locks harder "there we go," he grunted, his cock so deep inside of you you could feel it in your belly "that's all you needed wasn't it?" he asked " for someone to abuse this little pussy" he groaned, "for me, for me to fuck you like you deserve"

his lips were just before yours, not even an inch distancing you from a kiss, and yet, you weren't gonna cross that line, not today.

"yes" you moaned lowly "yes sir, yes"

"fuck" he groaned "you feel so good sweetheart, squeezing me so good... such a good girl"

"oh" you moaned, back into his neck "s-shit"

"'s ok" he purred, his fingers and hips working relentlessly to destroy you completely "'s ok sweetheart just-"

"Babe, can you bring me some water too?"

And if before Joel had stopped, it wasn't even remotely in his plans now. There you were, on the verge of an orgasm, and he was supposed to stop? no fucking way

He did the opposite, he started going harder, the table shifting on the floor.

You gasped and moaned before you finally freed your mouth from your neck, clinging to him as you answered

"Yes!" you screamed, hoping the pure pleasure behind your words wouldn't be hearable "Yes! I-I'm c-coming!"

"Yeah" he groaned into your ear "Yeah you are sweetheart" he purred, completely drowning out whatever response Jason gave you "Now give it to me, come all over my cock like a good girl"

And just like that, white pure bliss washed over you, and for a moment you were somewhere else, heaven, or hell more probably, but another universe for sure.

And you only came back when Joel's grunts sounded in your ears, when his thrusts got more sloppy, when you answered the words "Where do you want it?" with a simple "inside", and then finally, you fully came back to earth when he did, when he filled you up to the brim, remaining still deep inside you so none of it went to waste.

"fuck" he groaned after a while, finally pulling out of you to meet your eyes.

"Mr. Miller-"

You were waiting for the guilt to take over you, but somehow, for whatever reason, it still hadn't, and he felt exactly the same

"Babe?"

"shit" you gasped, getting off the table to put your panties back on.

"you need to go doll" Joel murmured, helping you put your tank top back into place

"Mr. Miller..." you murmured, your voice as shaky as your legs "I've got your come running down my thighs"

A soft smirk pulled at his lips

"should have thought of that before you said you wanted it inside" he taunted, his hands on your waist "or before you decided to touch yourself in my kitchen, sweetheart"

2K notes · View notes

hee0soo · 9 months

Text

Always

Request: Yes please, if you can maybe make a behind the scenes after bangchan got angry at the staff during a vlive , there is a video of it, I've been wondering what it would be like after the vlive and who would calm him down ? by @sclassstay

Disclaimer: this fic is written and copyrighted by ©hee0soo on tumblr. do not rewrite or repost on any other plattforms without my permission.

You knew that something was wrong as soon as the door to the green room opened and Chan came walking in, the members following him like little ducklings following their mother.

They were silent for once, which made the alarm bells inside your mind go off, blaring at you loudly. The fact that none of them dared saying much more than a few hushed greetings in your direction was heavily alarming!

It just wasn´t normal! Stray Kids wasn´t known as one of the most chaotic groups for nothing! There was a reason for that such as appearing on other groups live streams without actually appearing in it or the staff jokingly saying that it was like a kindergarten most of the time when they were together!

And the fact that Chan, the patience in person might you add, looked like he was ready to punch whoever entered the green room next, had you raising your eyebrow at the leader.

Chan removed the chain the stylists had put around his neck quickly, throwing it on the table with a little too much force than necessary, staying dead silent when as he sat down on one of the couches prepared for them.

Face strained, mouth set in a hard line and lips pressed tightly together, his eyes were glaring at something only he could see while his fingers were fidgeting around in annoyance.

You turned to Felix, questioning him silently about what had set this off. As far as you knew, he went out of the room joking around with the others. A stark contrast to the now seething posture he held!

The younger Aussie looked back at his leader, carefully studying his expression before turning back to you, whispering quietly.

“Staff was really unorganized today, repositioning everything and everyone while the Live was already running and all… At one point they asked Hyunjin-ah to plug I one of the monitors but he didn´t know how and instead of helping they just left him fumbling. Hyung was really pissed at them…”

You nodded slightly, glad for the little updated from the deep voiced dancer!

“Seems to me like he´s still mad,”

Felix hummed at your words, sitting down in one of the chairs and grabbed his water bottle from the table in front of him.

“Hmm, you´re right but talking to Hyung now could be fatal for us.”

The innuendo in is words had not gone over your head and your head back to look at your boyfriend.

Deciding how you wanted to do this, you got out of your chair, put your phone which you were still holding onto from before, in your back pocket and went over to your boyfriend.

The leader acknowledged your presence with a small glance but ultimately went back to glaring at the wall. He had started to fumble with the bracelet Felix had gifted him a few months ago to distract himself, not wanting to accidently snap at you.

“I´m fine,” he grumbled, chewing on the inside of his cheek, lips pursed.

“I believe you. Doesn´t mean I’m not worried about you…”

Keeping your voice gentle, you grabbed the hand that was playing with the bracelet, drawing small patterns on the exposed skin of his arm.

Chan’s face melted just the tiniest bit at the soothing touch and turned his head to face you.

“No need for that but thank you,”

Humming once more, you brushed a stray strand of hair out of his face, admiring him for a moment but never stopping the ministrations of your finger.

“I always worry about you baby. Comes with being in love with you.”

Closing his eyes, the corner of his mouth twitched a little. Chan didn´t know how but he could feel his anger start to dissipate the longer he looked at you.

“Don´t start acting cute with me!”

“Why? Because you know it´s working?” not being able to hide the smile on your lips, you quickly pressed a kiss to his cheek, making his face and ears turn red.

“Who said it´s working huh?”

At that, Minho, who had obviously listened to what was being said on your end of the couch, snorted loudly.

“Oh please Hyung! y/n barely sits down and you go all soft just because they are next to you! It IS working!”

The leader grabbed the cushion next to him with his free hand and threw it at his eldest kid with scarily accuracy.

“Oh don´t be like that, it just means you looove me!”

“Hmm sometimes…” he shrugged, amusement replacing the last bit of annoyance.

“YAH Christopher!” you screeched, pinching his side.

“I´M SORRY, I’m sorry! Of course I love you!”

“Ya better!”

Sulking, you turned away but Chan had other plans. Grabbing you around the waist, the leader pulled you on top of his lap, giving him the chance to wrap his arms entirely around you.

You could feel him nuzzling his face in your neck, breath fanning over your skin ever so slightly, causing you to shudder.

“I mean it you know…” he whispered into your ear and you smiled.

Of course you knew that, but it was still nice to hear it.

“And thank you, for always being by my side.”

Another kiss was pressed your skin. Turning your head to see him better, you put your lips on his before pulling away again. It was short and chaste but none the less carrying everything you wanted to tell him but didn´t have the words for so you whispered a simple but loving, “Always!”

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haoboutyou · 6 months

Text

haircut | choi seungcheol

fluff | 646 words | no warnings

an: he got a haircut T-T

The sound of the door unlocking and closing causes you to peek out of the kitchen. Closing your laptop, your chair screeches back as you get up from the dining table, moving to greet Seungcheol at the doorway. Sounds from your padded feet echo across the house as you make your way towards your lover, muffled by the soft carpet flooring.

“Hi Cheollie!” He grins up at you. He hangs up his coat, sitting on the nearby bench to remove his shoes. You had placed the bench in the entryway earlier when he first got injured so he would have an easier time with his shoes. His heart swells every time he sits on it, forever thankful for your thoughtfulness.

“Hi baby.“ You found yourself standing in between his thighs. Your waist automatically encircled by his hands, drawing you in closer. One hand is on his shoulder as you steady yourself, while the other gets entangled in his hair. You briefly recall Seungcheol informing you he was heading to the salon earlier in the morning. Fingers softly run through Seungcheol's hair, ruffling. His hair is shorter now, you note, but still barely covering his eyes. The now ebony strands tumbled and resettled, all fluffed up by your ministrations.

“It's shorter now,” you pout.

Seungcheol laughs aloud at your jutted lips, placing a kiss on the hand on his shoulder. “Yeah, it was getting in the way,” he leans into your touch. Like a puppy seeking warmth and reassurance. It was an instinctive response, an unspoken invitation for more of that comforting contact. He pats on his good knee, gesturing for you to sit on his lap. “You liked my long hair?”

You nod, humming in agreement. His lap makes for a sturdy seat, now eye level to him. “It’s nice like this too, I guess,” you push back his bangs. Examining his face once more. “It makes you look dashing.”

His eyes, still vibrant, held a touch of mischief as if testing the waters to see if your adorable pout could be softened by any resistance. “So you’re saying I wasn’t dashing before this?”

It's the way you let out such an exaggerated gasp that has him grinning from ear to ear. Lightly slapping at his chest, you stand up from his lap, making your way back into the kitchen.

“I hope you go bald,” the threat of your words hides behind the sweet smile you shoot his way. He chuckles at your retreating figure, finally removing his shoes before trailing you into the home.

“Oh, so that’s your type now?” he calls out.

“Mhmm. Hyungwon looks really handsome with his hair shaved.”

Now it's Seungcheol’s turn to be flabbergasted. He takes the opportunity to rewrap his arms around you as you go about setting aside your work on the dining table.

“...You and Jeonghan– You guys hang out too much, I swear.” His voice is muffled as he buries his face in your hair. You can feel his pout against your head, enticing a giggle out of you. Facing him in his arms, you loop your arms around his neck once again. In the warmth of each other's embrace, you tiptoe to peck Seungcheol on the lips.

“You need to use chapstick more,” you murmur against his lips. He smiles into the kiss, pressing you even closer to him.

“You need to kiss me more.” He bites down on your lip. The edge of the table presses into your back, causing you to arch into his touch. He prods with his tongue, and–

-his stomach grumbles. Seungcheol groans in annoyance as you pull away, laughing at the impeccable timing of his stomach. You start flitting around the kitchen again, this time pulling out pots and pans instead.

“C’mon,” you pull him towards the fridge. “Help me make dinner? You can pick.”

He sighs, defeated. “Fine, dinner first.”

#scoups #seungcheol #scoups fluff #choi seungcheol #seventeen fluff #svt fluff #seungcheol fluff #choi seungcheol fluff #scoups x reader #seungcheol x reader #˙✧˖° aiyu writes ༘ ⋆｡˚

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girlrotterr · 3 months

Text

Trails of Sweetness.

farm!ellie x fem!reader Summary: ellie's a worker at your family's peach farm. a/n: another fic for you angels!! tysm for the support on my last fic!!

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You awoke at 8:00, stretching tiredly in bed before drawing back the curtains. The early morning sun filled your room with a warm glow, inviting the essence of summer. The peach trees stood tall and elegant, their leaves dancing in the summer breeze. Opening the window, the fresh air surrounded you, the sun illuminating the meadow. A view of vibrant oranges and reds painted the sky.

The field surrounding the farm with life—blooming flowers, buzzing bees, and the cheerful chirping of birds. The morning wind, so gentle on your skin.

With a final glimpse out the window, you began your routine.

The sink's tap gushed water as you brushed your teeth, taking a moment to run a brush through your hair, gently working out the knots from last night's rest. Finally, completing your routine by making your bed, the soft cotton sheets and pillowcases soothed beneath your fingertips.

Now, in your usual peach-picking outfit—denim overalls paired with a delicate lace tank top, hair tied back with a red ribbon—you slipped into your rusty dark brown boots.

Breakfast can wait; I need to head out there!

You headed downstairs with your basket in hand, swung open the front door, and…

There it was – the breathtaking meadow. The view never failed to amaze you. With a skip in your step, you headed towards the peach trees, eager to begin the day's harvest.

You began approaching the first tree heavy with peaches, the rosy, plump fruits dangling like ornaments, ready to be picked.

“Hello sweeties!" you exclaimed excitedly, reaching to pick them.

Snatch!

Suddenly, the peach was ripped off by an arm behind you.

"What—" You quickly turned around, wanting to know who had robbed your peach.

andd..of fucking course.

"It's ripe," Ellie said, bouncing the peach in her hand.

"No, really?" you said sarcastically, looking at her with pure annoyance.

Ellie smirked at you before taking a bite out of the peach. Her teeth sank into the juicy fruit, a burst of sweetness exploding in her mouth. Peach juices squelched and dribbled down her chin, glistening in the sunlight like liquid gold. A run of juice trailed down her fingers, leaving a sticky residue. The pure sweetness coated her lips.

"Yeah, definitely ripe," she said, wiping her mouth while looking at you.

You rolled your eyes, not wanting to feed into Ellie's remarks. "What are you even doing out here?"

"I figured you needed a taste tester," Ellie said while smiling cheekily, the peach in her hand glistening.

Ellie had become part of the farm last summer, when your family needed extra hands. She effortlessly adapted, and it irked you how perfect she was. Harvesting a week's worth of peaches in just three days.

Since she joined, you found yourself distracted. The fields and peach trees, once the entire focus of your attention, now had competition with the disruption that was Ellie.

Her demeanor and mischievous smiles...

god..you couldn’t resist it.

A part of you craved that distraction.

"I can decide that on my own," you said, taking the peach from Ellie's hand.

Squelch!

The sound of teeth sinking into a ripe peach.

Biting into the area she had bitten, the sweet juices burst into your mouth, flowing down your chin and onto your collarbones. The warmth of the sun beamed down onto you, the sticky sweetness running down onto your chest, almost staining your tank top.

"Fuck… you're messier than me," Ellie said, her eyes fixed on the trails of juices along your skin. They slid down perfectly.

Ellie reached her hand out, gathering the sticky sweetness alongside her fingertips. She slid her fingers along your skin, tracing your chin and collarbones. The warmth of her touch left a new trail, a trail of heat. Slowly she brought her fingers to her lips, a mischievous look in her eyes.

Her tongue darted out, delicately licking the peach juices off her fingers. She was doing this on purpose, she wanted to tease you.

"Mmm..." A smirk played on Ellie's lips as she licked her fingers clean.

You looked at Ellie in embarrassment, completely flushed.

"You're a real sicko," you said, grabbing Ellie's hand and placing the bitten peach into her hands once again.

Ellie smirked. "aw, don't be mean." She looked at you, a stare so irresistible. “I helped you clean up.”

“hm…you missed a spot,” you said, gathering the trail of peach juices along your chest. Bringing your finger to Ellie's lip, rubbing the peach juices along them. Her lips were now covered in a glossy sweetness

Ellie's eyes widened, your sudden touch sending shivers down her spine. Your fingers moved achingly slow as they traced her soft pink lips, the warmth of your touch leaving her entranced. Fuck, she thought to herself, her gaze fixed on you. A part of her had imagined this scenario before, but instead of peach juices, it was your own juices spread across her lips.

“You're terrible at helping,” you said cheekily, turning your back away from her. Beginning to pick peaches, your original focus.

Your sudden remark made Ellie snap out of her trance. She bit her lip, fucking needing you; craving to have you bury your cunt against her face, squeezing your thighs against her head, suffocating her in ecstasy. Ellie gave you a soft chuckle, “I’ll leave you to it then.”

She turned around, walking away, feeling the peach in her hand—the softness of it and the sweetness running down her wrists. The texture of the peach was warm against her skin, the sticky juices tracing down her fingers.

She began walking a little quicker now, her steps becoming heavier, her grip tightening on the peach. The fruit was wet and warm against her palm. The juices, still fresh and sweet.

Fuck, fuck, fuck... Ellie's mind raced as she practically sprinted towards the tool shed—urgency in her steps. With a swift motion, she banged the door open, slamming it closed behind her, leaning against the wooden wall. In desperation, she unbuckled her belt, swiftly loosening it. Shoving her hand down her boxers, feeling her wet cunt along her warm fingertips.

“Fuckk.., you made me soo fucking wet…” she mumbled to herself, slowly gliding her fingers against her slit. Her wetness coated her fingers while gripping the peach firmly, it squelching in her hands.

She brought the peach up to her mouth, sticking her tongue out to lick the area where you had bitten. Circling her puffy clit, huffs escaped her lips, moaning heavily against it. The sweetness of the peach's juices coated her tongue as she ran it up and down the fruit, pretending it was your sweet cunt.

“Nghhh..wanna eat..it..soo bad..” Her hips began bucking against her fingers, her pace quickening. She threw her head back, hitting the shed’s wooden wall with a harsh thud. “Mmm! Fuckkk!…”

Ellie's fingers pressed into the peach’s soft flesh, the once smooth surface becoming tainted with bruises and tears. With each squeeze, the peach's delicate skin burst, releasing sticky juices that dripped down Ellie's hand and onto the shed floor. The peach, once a symbol of sweetness, now lay in Ellie's hand as something grotesque.

“You’re- ngh.. a fucking tease..” Ellie shut her eyes closed, simply picturing your pretty pussy against her mouth. “t-touching my fucking..lips–”

Click!

A rush of panic ran through Ellie as she heard the doorknob turn. "Shit." Her heart pounded in her chest, and with a sudden urgency, she tried to fix her clothes. But the door was already halfway open by the time she reached for her belt.

You walked into the shed, focused on finding a stool for reaching higher peaches. However, your attention completely shifted as you laid eyes on Ellie. She stood before you, her auburn hair disheveled and clinging to her flushed face. Her right arm and mouth glistened with peach juices. Her belt hung loosened, revealing her boxers. Both your widened eyes met.

Ellie's mouth opened to speak, but no words came out. She was fucking caught.

The tension in the air was thick, silence filled the shed, the only sound being Ellie's shaky breathing.

You slowly closed the shed door, leaning against the shed door, a playful grin forming on your lips. “holy..shit.”

Ellie stood frozen, her wide eyes remained fixed on you, not a muscle in her body moving.

“Ellie, what-”

"I was just— I was looking for—...fuck." Ellie muttered, frustration in her voice. She threw her head back against the wooden wall, closing her eyes and scrunching her nose in defeat. She couldn’t get out of this.

You stepped closer to Ellie, taking in the view. Her veiny hand tightly gripping the disfigured peach, her happy trail completely exposed, her freckled face completely flushed. She’s a complete mess.

"You really are a fucking sicko," you said with a teasing grin.

Ellie shook her head, still avoiding eye contact. "If you hadn't walked in—"

You interrupted her, grabbing her wrist and pushing the peach close to her face. "You would've fucked this."

Ellie scoffed, a smirk playing on her lips. "I'm not that fucking gross."

With a grin, you pushed the peach even closer to her mouth, the juices now trailing down your hand. "You're gross enough to cum to it,” you teased.

Annoyance grew in Ellie's eyes as she finally looked at you. A mixture of irritation and frustration in her expression. Irritated that you had walked in, annoyed that you now held this over her. Frustrated that you had witnessed her this deranged.

You let go of her wrist, wiping your wet hand along her white tank top, slightly dampening it. Your palm slowly brushing against her nipples, causing Ellie to flinch slightly. Looking down at Ellie's other hand, you notice her slightly pruned index finger. You bite your bottom lip, trying not to laugh at her eagerness.

“I’ll let you get back to it.” You say tauntingly, giving Ellie a smirk before turning away to open the shed door. Suddenly, feeling a tight grip on your hip, the force swaying you to turn around.

Ellie's hand tightened its grip on your hip bone, pulling you intensely close to her body. Her loosened belt now grazed your lower stomach, the coolness of it sent shivers down your spine.

"Don't fucking say anything to anyone," she threatened, her husky voice against your lips. Your eyes met Ellie's, her gaze piercing through you.

fuckk..

Her gaze only fueled you to taunt her further. The way her stare pierced into yours with intensity sent a thrill down your body, knowing that your actions were affecting her in ways she couldn't hide.

"Scared that people will know how pathetic you are?" you teased, earning a forceful pull from Ellie, your body bumping against hers. Now, your lips were mere centimeters away, her intense stare locking onto yours.

"I'm serious...please," she pleaded, her grip loosening as desperation filled her eyes. She was completely vulnerable, her dominance crumbling before your eyes.

“hm...” your voice was low as you slid your hands along Ellie's body. Tracing the curve of her abdomen up to her neck, Her skin felt incredibly hot under your touch.

"I could always tell a different story…” you suggested, looking up at Ellie. Bringing your lips closer to Ellie's ear, you lightly brushed against her skin. The intense heat between your bodies filled the shed, leaving no room for anything else.

“If we make one.”

#ellie williams #ellie tlou #ellie x reader #ellie x fem reader #ellie x you #ellie x y/n #ellie fanfic #ellie smut #farm ellie

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