#the weaving isn't particularly good and i never did get the tension right but it is basically exactly what i hoped for so | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

betweenbreaths · 1 year

Text

a good drink (zoro x reader)

Summary: You learn the hard way never to steal from a pirate, especially not from a petty swordsman.

Rating: 18+ (smut - you have been warned)

A/N: Just a little self-indulgent thing I whipped up after being fed-up with my WIPs. Hope you enjoy!

***

"This tastes surprisingly good," Zoro remarks, as he licks his lips clean with a smirk. Tipping his head up, he eyes the look on your face—and you can only imagine how you look like from his view. Perhaps flushed, your eyes unfocused and half-lidded, lips parted in protest from his momentary break.

"Zoro, please," you whine, fingers weaving into his green hair and tugging towards you again. His head stays stubbornly in place, not yielding to your pleas. He seems to be enjoying the sight of you begging, if the growing smirk on his face is any indication. Any other day, you would be itching to wipe it off with a good punch, but right now all you can think about is his tongue on your clit and all the sinful things he was making you feel just moments ago.

Since moving him doesn't work, you roll your hips, trying to inch closer to his mouth but it doesn't get you anywhere either. Your hands are tied securely to the bedframe by his bandana, so all you can do is lay there and let Zoro do whatever he wants with you.

Once he's decided you've stewed long enough, he plunges his hot tongue back into your folds again, causing your head to tip back with a keening moan. Your hips buck towards him before you can help it, and you feel his tongue sweep up the line of your wet slit, straight to your sensitive, pink clit. The tip of his tongue traces the nub in a circular motion, before rolling over it with more force than before and his lips close in, teeth grazing it and sucking hard.

It's like electricity is flowing through your body; the pleasure comes like sparks flying off your skin. You can hear the sound of him sucking, lapping up your juices and savouring you as if you're the finest drink he's ever had.

"Faster. Please. More," you whimper, pulling at his hair. Single words are all you can manage, other than the filthy moans leaving your mouth. You can feel it, your climax getting closer, but Zoro just isn't giving it to you.

"I'm savoring the taste of you," he replies, meeting your gaze and you can see the mirth gleaming in his eyes, "since someone stole my drink earlier."

Petty, that's what Roronoa Zoro is. Of course he would bring that up now, when he has you putty in his hands, needy and desperate for release. All you did was take the bottle lying all by itself on the kitchen counter and drink the last of it. How were you supposed to know it was his drink?

You're about to protest that he should have labelled the damn bottle in the first place, when you feel his fingers prodding at your entrance, sinking into you in the next second. Whatever retort you came up with dies instantly in your throat, thoughts scattering and mind going blank as you feel yourself being filled.

His fingers pull back, and plunge into you again, all at a maddeningly slow pace. Grinding your hips into the air does nothing, as before. You can't even move your legs, one of which has been thrown over his shoulder while the other is being held by the calf and spread apart so he has full access to your wet pussy. You're helpless, in every sense of the word, and at the mercy of a particularly unforgiving man to boot.

"Got any complaints? It's your fault for stealing from a pirate."

By now you've given up on reasoning, all sense and logic having left you by now. All you can register is Zoro fingering and eating you out at the same time, and the mounting tension in your lower abdomen is starting to consume you whole.

"Z-Zoro... I'm close..."

At the sound of your whine, he suddenly stops moving. For a second, you're confused. It doesn't take long before you're making a sound of protest and tugging on his hair in a bid to get him to continue.

"Don't stop..."

"Is that how you apologise for stealing someone's drink?"

"I'm sorry, I won't do it again. Please, make me cum." The apology tumbles out of your mouth immediately without an ounce of shame. You're eyeing his wet fingers, waiting with bated breaths for him to slide them inside you again, and to use his mouth to make you unravel completely.

"That's more like it," he says with a grin, seemingly satisfied with your hasty, desperate words, much to your relief.

His mouth closes in on you again, and his fingers thrust into you, harder and faster than before. The tips of your toes die into the bedsheets as your back arches, moaning and crying out for more.

You're so close. You can feel it, the waves of pleasure coming as Zoro sucks and plays with you, observing and drinking in every reaction you make to his ministrations.

You lose track of the seconds or minutes that pass. The tension grows and grows low in your belly like a rubber band being stretched to snapping point.

"Cum for me," Zoro says, with a light moan into your centre that has you shaking from the vibration of his deep voice against your skin.

As if under a spell, your body obeys. A loud cry of his name leaves your lips as you come, head tipping back into the pillow and eyes squeezing shut as the orgasm does its number on you. You feel your body quake as the man continues to go down on you, lengthening and drawing out your climax as far as he can.

Before long, your body begins to still, coming down from its pleasurable high. Your chest heaves as you pant, trying to catch your breath while your vision clears up.

Zoro's eyes meet yours then, and he pulls away from your wet, throbbing cunt, a string of your cum following his lips.

"Don't think you're getting off that easily," Zoro says, voice commanding and making you shiver. You watch in silence as he stands up, pulling out his cock. His member is stiff, standing tall and slick with pre-cum, and the sight makes your mouth water.

Zoro must have seen the desire in your eyes too, because the corner of his lips lifts into a smug smirk.

"On your knees. I'll teach you to apologise properly."

#one piece #roronoa zoro #zoro #one piece zoro #zoro x reader fanfiction #zoro fanfiction #zoro x reader #my writing #i rly said 'fk planning' and just wrote whatever came to mind #hope you liked this little thing!

80 notes · View notes

princebugs · 5 years

Text

A meeting with Niles.

Quivering digits rub and scratch at the back of his own neck, goosebumps rising as his eyes shift from corner to corner. He swallows, the nervous lump in his throat dissipating for only mere moments before quickly arising once more. His movements remain shaky, and shifty. He feels nervosa creeping up his spine leisurely, causing his hyperactivity to skyrocket. Remaining still is no easy task.

The male can almost discern a feeling of eyes on the back of his brunette tresses, watching him from the shadowed corner of the room. Perhaps a figure is awaiting the perfect time to pounce on the human and rip his throat out, at a pace fast enough that he wouldn't scream--- no one would hear his death. He whips his head in that direction, his heart pounding against his chest.

Cue a sigh of relief.

It's just dust. It's just dust, Gavin. Can't hurt you. Maybe fuck with your allergies a bit, but it won't hurt you. You're probably just crazy, like your uncle Kevin--- he still lives in that shed, right? Still talking about those damned 'creatures of the night', hiding in there with a shotgun with hopes that he'll be the one to kill 'em.

Maybe you'll be like that soon, if these delusions go any farther.

A sound of a doorknob clicking interrupts his thoughts and causes the male to jump in his seat, right forearm raising in a defensive manner before realizing that it was only his new therapist, clad in a black turtleneck and black pants.

When did he get here?

Gavin briefly takes a glance down at himself, and is just a slight bit pissed at himself for not dressing nicer.

If this was anything but a therapy session where Gavin would have to speak openly about his mental problems, he would have dressed better. He didn't see the point of wearing something appealing when it was just therapy, and his therapist was most likely going to be some old man or young female that he didn't need to impress.

Sadly for him, the male was definitely not an old man. He looked, roughly, around Gavin's age--- yet he had the sort of timeless face that could pass for a nineteen-year-old. The turtleneck's sleeves were pushed up to his elbows. Gavin usually considers turtlenecks "phckin' ugly" but this guy has changed the definition for him.

And he was overwhelmingly pale. Did he never go outside?

Lesson learned. Wear cute clothes EVERYWHERE.

“Mr. Reed?“ A voice brings Gavin out of his train of thought, and he notices that the male is no longer standing, and is, in fact, sitting right in the position ahead of him, with his head tilted in slight concern as well as confusion.

Dammit.

“Shit, ah,“ Gavin struggles to push away his thoughts for the time being, his nails scratching at the back of his neck as he awkwardly laughs half-heartedly. “Yeah, yeah. That's me, alright.“

The therapist merely emits a soft chuckle, though his mind seems to be elsewhere. He doesn't know for sure, but he thinks that he's making a mental note of some sort--- probably from his behavior. This feels almost like a job interview, and that makes Gavin straighten out his back and lock eye-contact with the male across from him, his cerulean optics now gazing into steel hues. This, however, prompts another brief snicker from him.

“This isn't a professional setting, Mr. Reed. You can sit however you see fit; it is better that you feel comfortable while we converse with one another.“

Gavin's brows furrow together in exiguous uncertainty--- this man spoke like he was reading from a college art essay. Though he said it wasn't professional, it almost felt like it was; like Gavin was being judged for every single movement he followed through with.

It was almost as if he was being ordered to feel more comfortable, which is the most awkward thing ever. It puts on pressure, and makes the situation even more uncomfortable. Nonetheless, Gavin leans back, slouching a modest amount whilst placing his elbows on the back of the couch he sat upon. He stared ahead with half-lidded eyes, and his therapist was studying his body language the entire time.

Gavin would consider this creepy, but it's alright because it's his therapist.

“I'm Dr. Anderson, but you can just refer to me as Niles,“ His therapist--Niles-- begins, his nimble fingers picking up a set of reading glasses and placing them on his visage for a few moments to seemingly read Gavin's file, then setting both the glasses and the file down on the table in front of him. “How about you tell me why you set this urgent appointment with me, hm?“

His voice was smooth, like velvet draped across pale skin. It brought chills down Gavin's back. Compared to how coarse and rough Gavin's voice was, Niles' voice was soothing.

Calm down, dude. This isn't a therapy session for questioning your sexuality. Reply to his question, fucknut!

“Yeah, sure, sure. Uh, where do I fuckin' start?“ Again, Gavin laughs to release some tension, and when the room is silent, he coughs. And continues. “Hah, erm... well, I've been having these weird delusions and feelings of someone watching me. Paranoia, or whatever. I can't sleep, either.“

The concept of therapy wasn't really Gavin's thing; the idea of sharing all of his thoughts with another person was just plain idiotic, in his opinion. He'd much rather keep his feelings to himself, but since his mother called him out of the blue and informed him that she had scheduled an appointment with an "experienced therapist with good reviews" (which sounded shady as hell) because she was worried.

Truth is, he couldn't blame her for being worried. He had shut himself in his apartment, and wasn't even going to work the majority of the time. And when he did go to work, he only got sent home because he continuously kept falling asleep at his desk. Probably because he doesn't feel the eyes on him as he sleeps at work.

“Interesting,“ Niles bobbed his cranium in confirmation, his weight now leaning back as he crosses his arms over one another. He always seems like he is analyzing Gavin in some way.

Weird as fuck.

“So, perhaps you could be having some sort of stalker, or PTSD from something happening to you in the pa--“

“No, no. It's not like that.“

Niles seems suddenly interested and more inclined to listen, his head once again now tilted to the side in curiosity as his brows raise upwards. “Oh?“

Gavin gulped--- the aura that this guy gave off was intimidating as hell, and it was difficult to trust him. “Yeah, like... if it was something like that, then wouldn't I feel some sort of recognition kind of thing? Stalkers are usually people that the person knows personally or knew personally, and PTSD... don't think that's applicable to this situation. I don't think it's that.“

“Elaborate.“

“If it was PTSD, then it wouldn't feel so... so...“ He struggled to search and find the correct vocabulary, the right words-- it was on the tip of his tongue. His eyebrows knit together in comprehension, irises looking down at the couch as he--

“Real?“

Niles' tone is almost demanding in generality; it causes Gavin to shudder and almost cower in fear. Momentarily, he remembers how stern his father's voice was, how it terrified him to his core. Fear can make anyone curl in on themselves.

Gavin nods his head, his grey-blue hues now gazing out the large-sized window located directly to his left, watching as doves fly away. “Y-- yeah. Real. I've experienced PTSD before, and it's nothing like that, at least not this time. It's inhuman, almost. Like... like someone, some thing is going to pounce on me at any second. I don't feel safe in my apartment by myself. Hah, I even had a little moment in here before you got here--- thought something was in the corner.“

His therapist only stares, bobbing his head every now and then as a way to show that he was listening. Though, it didn't seem like it. It was as if he already knew everything that Gavin was saying. He identifies a sudden feeling of recognition--- one that chills Gavin to his very core.

“I, uh--- have I met you before?“ The detective leans forward now, setting his elbows on his knees. He can feel the shadows under his eyes growing deeper-- is that normal? How long had it been since he had slept? Gavin's calloused phalanges weave through his brunette locks, then gripping them tightly. “God, I must be going crazy. Of course, I haven't seen you anywhere--- what am I thinking? Turnin' into Uncle Kev-- I've been seein' shit that just isn't there. It's probably just sleep deprivation, and this therapy session won't do anything, I'm just wastin' my ti--“

“Here, walk with me outside,“ His incoherent rambling is cut short by Niles' request.

Gavin's pate raises upwards, catching sight of the therapist's outstretched palm, reaching for him. Motioning for Gavin to take his hand. His eyes lock with Niles.

“Wowza! Hand-holding? At least take me out to dinner first, eh?“ Gavin internally slaps himself. Meanwhile, Niles just rolls his eyes. Not in an annoyed way--- in an amused manner. Phew, Gavin didn't scare away his therapist.

“Come on, you said that being in here made you have a little 'fit' as well, right? Perhaps being out instead of holed inside your apartment will make you feel better, in some fashion?“

Gavin ponders about his next move, though it didn't seem much like a request at this point. Niles just seemed like he was politely ordering him to go outside. Reluctantly, he places his tan-colored hand in Niles' pale palm, letting his hand envelop over Gavin's and pull him up to his feet abruptly.

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

They meandered around the perimeter of the building for several moments, neither of them uttering a single word the duration of their walk. Gavin wasn't particularly skilled at breaking the ice when it came to long periods of silence similar to this; he would usually make it worse, actually. Saying something that would be so unexpected that it catches the recipient off-guard, or something that just makes the air between them extremely awkward all of the sudden.

Eventually, Gavin can't stand it anymore. He coughs to clear his throat up, his hand clenching into a fist for him to cough into for a few moments before scratching at the back of his neck again, and again.

“So, like, you have any family around this area, or are you new to Detroit?“

Greaaat question, Gavin. What if he has no family, and you just brought up shitty memories? GOOD GOIN', PRICK.

Niles hums. “I am relatively new here, but my brother lives here with me. You probably saw him whilst walking around the building, yes? Shorter than me, brown eyes?“

Gavin recalls seeing someone who fit that description. “Yeah, that's your brother?“

“Indeed, he is. He's... a little brat sometimes, prefers to do his own thing, but he's still family. We had to move rather abruptly due to some... sudden consequences of our actions, I suppose. Nothing for you to worry about.“

That bewildered Gavin, but he decided not to press further.

Luckily, Niles kept the conversation going. If the silence began once more, Gavin thought he could die.

“You mentioned an uncle earlier?“

Right, during his ramble.

“Yeah, hahah--- Uncle Kevin. He's like, the weird family member, y'know? The one who lives in a shed with a shotgun--- claiming that he'll prevent the apocalypse by killing the bloodsuckers, or something like that,“ Gavin laughs at this, yet Niles is silent.

“How peculiar. Bloodsuckers, you say?“ Niles inclines his head towards Gavin, his arms remaining behind his back as he walked. “What do you think of that?“

Gavin's face scrunches up, emitting a confused noise before sighing softly, remembering that this was a therapy session after all. “I dunno, man. Frankly, I think the idea of vampires existing is stupid as fuck, actually. Like, wasn't it just a myth, or fairytale? Or something like that. Nonetheless, it's hella dumb, and I don't believe in it one bit. If I ever saw a vampire in front of my face, I'd probably call it ugly and scream.“

Niles does laugh at this. “Be careful about what you say, Mr. Reed, you never know who, or what, might be listening.“

The way he said this caused shivers to go down Gavin's back. He sneered at Niles, shoving his hands into the pockets of his hoodie and emitting a disgruntled huff. “Don't even joke about that shit, man. I mean, I may find it funny, but the way you say that shit just makes me feel hella uneasy.“

“What if I told you that you should be feeling uneasy right now, Gavin?“ Niles' tone is almost playful, like a cat playing with its prey before chomping down on it.

Gavin just emits a confused noise in return. “Huh?“ He should be feeling uneasy? Why is that such a... weird statement to make?

“I'm just messing with you-- a mere jest. Everyone feels uneasy with their new therapist; that's a sign that you're normal, Gavin.“

Exhaling a soft suspire of relief. “See, when you're all serious like that all the time, I can't even tell the difference between the real seriousness and the fake. That's what makes me feel uneasy.“

“That's how life really is, though. No one can distinguish reality from dream, but we believe that we can. How sure are you right now that you are in reality? At this exact moment, do you know if I am real, or a figment of your imagination?“ The taller male stops in his tracks, and Gavin struggles to stammer out his reply.

Gavin turns his head to Niles.

“I-- I'm totally freaked right now, dude. You're gettin' all... weird. How the fuck did we go from talkin' about vampires to--- this??“

“Gavin. Keep your windows unlocked at night, okay? It's extremely difficult for someone to break a window in a quiet manner. And it just becomes a hassle to clean up later on...“

What the fuck?

Gavin has no time to respond, Niles speeds up and just walks away with a mere wink and a smirk with relatively sharp canine teeth for a human. Remarkably, Niles had no shadow. Weird, weird, weird. Everything about Niles was weird and unexplainable.

Gavin is left on the pavement outside the building with no one around him, awkwardly standing there. He didn't know where to go. Should he follow Niles? No, no--- Gavin didn't want to be around him anymore.

He must look pathetic, wanting to run away and cry to his mother about what had just occurred--- but he'll do it nonetheless.

There was only one thing that Gavin knew from his first and last encounter with his therapist.

He's locking the windows.

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

ALSO POSTED ON AO3:

#gavin reed #detroit: become human #dbh rk900 #rk900 #reed900 #gav900 #if i told you niles wasnt the stalker would you believe me #anyways #hehe #lemme know what u think

69 notes · View notes