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holyscream · 2 years
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Man vs nature? Man vs man? No thanks, I only care about The struggle of deciding between the animation and slide transition functionality of PowerPoint vs the actually decent and useful typography controls of InDesign.
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eureka-its-zico · 8 months
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Chaos in Their Bones
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Ongoing Series
Synopsis: All your life you’d listened to your friend, Usopp spin wild tales about pirates and adventure. Pirates weren’t a thing that came often to Syrup Village, but one straw hat pirate and his crew changed all that the day they arrived. Now, you aren’t so sure if your sleepy little village was always pirate-free or if no one had been paying attention. 
Pairing: Roronoa Zoro x Reader
Genre: friends to lovers, frienemies to lovers, slow burn (I hope y’all like aching) eventual smut
Words: 5k+
A/N: I told myself I wasn’t going to do this, so naturally I did it anyway. This is the first chapter in a planned series with a reader insert following the events of the OPLA universe. I sincerely hope that this is a story you all love as this is my first initial time writing for one of my beloved anime. But let’s be real, after seeing Mackenyu play Zoro (my fav) I knew I was going to be whipped from the start. The reader will go by “Doc” in this story at times, and later a nickname by Zoro himself.  As always, I hope you enjoy this. Much love, Jenn. Also, thank you @thegreatesttttttttt for indulging me.
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The ringing of the bell thundered through the sky above. An upcoming warning of four words that would echo through the street's moments later. 
“The pirates are coming!”
You could practically hear the rest of the town groan with a sigh. Their annoyance stunk up the streets as Usopp sounded the imaginary alarm as he usually did every day around this time. Maybe it was because you considered Usopp a friend that his tall tales and wild imagination didn’t bother you. 
Instead, a sly smile tilted your lips as you continued to grind the seeds deep into the mortar. Mr. Edison’s gruff voice from outside your window reminded Usopp for the millionth time that he needed to stop as he sprinted past. 
“What is that boy going on about?” Naan huffed.
You sent a quick glance behind your shoulder at the older woman who was currently folding the recently washed linens. All of them are used with a purpose to either staunch bloody wounds or for the simple purpose of relieving colds. Naan’s linens, like her home, were used for a multitude of healing services, with the only payment she accepted was that of the kindness of others around her. 
“You already know, Naan,” you replied, your smile evident in your words. “It’s the usual afternoon reminder to stay on your toes.”
A deep chuckle came from behind you followed by the soft cough that came after. 
“These toes can’t do very much standing. So, maybe tell your friend to give me a day of rest soon.”
“Usopp has done this every day for seven years. I don’t think anything anyone will ever say will make him stop.”
Even if you could get Usopp to stop, you wouldn’t be the one to make him. You weren’t sure how many people in town knew who his father was - or that he’d been a pirate. A father by suggestion, Usopp’s wild imagination could only recall small things from the stories his mother had been willing to share, and from those stories, even greater ones grew.
While everyone else may have found Usopp’s stories as an ever-present headache you knew they held a deeper meaning. They were the only thing he knew of a man he never got to know. 
The sound of chair legs creaking across the floor cut you out of your thoughts. Just in time from the looks of the seed putty you’d created. A heavy thud on the boards informed you Naan grabbed her cane and the heavier shuffling of her feet that she was heading in your direction. 
“What are you so intently making over here, child?”
Settling down the pestle, you reached over your workstation to grab a pot. You were going to need to fetch some water to bring everything to a bowl before you strained it into a jar. 
“Water. I need to go get some water,” you murmured as you brought the pot down in front of you.
“Am I talking to myself?”
“Oh, I’m sorry, Naan. Did you say something?”
This time you did dare to look at her. Her deep-set wrinkles set impossibly deeper as she regarded your work from over your shoulder. 
“Oh, I only asked what you were making that was stinking up my kitchen.”
Your eyes flew open wide as you took a deep breath in. You were sure the only thing you’d put in that maybe - maybe - smelled was the slippery elm, but you hadn’t even steeped it in the water yet. Naan must have read your panic before it began to stitch your brow together. Your eyes still helplessly peeled to the job in front of you instead of the chuckling woman behind you. 
“It’s fine, child. I’m just teasing you.”
All your panic rushed out in a huff of air as your body finally turned to greet her. Your eyes instantly took in the very tired look of hers. 
“You should get some rest, Naan.”
The two of you knew you meant well. You would never try and make Naan feel older than she already felt, except you didn’t give a damn about her feelings when you could easily spot the sweat on her upper lip. The way her body leaned more into the cane that supported her. She batted your concern away with a swat of her free hand. As if it would be enough to make whatever fear that gripped at your heart magically disappear.  
“Don’t patronize me. I’m fine.”
“You are not fine. You're wheezing with every breath now-“
“I said I’m fine. Leave me alone and start worrying about whatever it is you’re making.”
“Well,  if you would stop interrupting me, maybe I could finish it!”
The irritation in your voice wasn’t hard to miss. Naan heard it too no doubt with the way her brow cocked as if begging you to repeat it. 
The silence stretched uncomfortably between you. Naan wouldn’t even look at you - probably too scared to see your eyes pleading, full of worry for her to just go lay down. 
Why must you always be so stubborn? 
The question sat on your tongue and made your words form like molasses. You weren’t a child anymore. So, it begged the question of why you were still afraid to speak to her like an adult. It didn’t matter if what you said hurt her old feelings. Not when the thought of her not being around made your chest begin to spread wide like an aching chasm. 
“You never did say what you were making.”
You pressed your tongue against your cheek while you debated if it would be worth it to try and argue with her. Of course, you were always the first one to relent and push it under the metaphorical rug.
“It’s a gift for Miss Kaya. Usopp told me her cough hadn’t changed and asked if I would make something for her.”
“Hmm,” Naan hummed in thought. “That boy is strange, but he is kind.”
“Not as strange as Kaya having an unknown illness the last few years and never seeking any aid from the town's doctor,” you grumbled. 
Naan’s hand lightly clasped your shoulder in comfort - comfort you didn’t want to accept. Not only were thoughts of Naan being sick plaguing every ounce of free space in your brain but now so was Kaya. You’d only met her once when you were younger with Usopp and after her parents died that odd butler, Klahadore, kept her under strict observation. 
In all the years you’d been with Naan, learning everything she could teach about healing, you’d found it odd that the staff never came to ask for help. You couldn’t recall a time when Sham or Buchi ever came down requesting any tonics or medicines from Naan, or for her to come with them to examine Kaya in the first place. 
I wasn’t aware they were waitstaff and doctors. 
You knew these thoughts would only dampen your mood until it turned completely sour. You just couldn’t stop the runaway train that was your thoughts from slipping back into questioning everything with the universe never giving you any new answers. 
“How many times have I told you, child, we can’t make people get help. They have to seek it themselves and that- that is when the real healing begins.”
You were already bitter and that bitterness responded to Naan’s words in the form of an eye roll. One you were lucky the older woman didn’t see. 
“It’s just not right.” 
“Right or not, it’s not our place to go butting in.”
She stood behind you for a few more minutes waiting for a reply you didn’t give. You were done talking. Done trying to get her to understand that she was sick too and that all those years of molding words and actions to help others were what drove you to help her. To help Kaya. Only Usopp seemed to notice that something in her grand home wasn’t right. 
Frustration drew tight across your chest causing your hands to seek support against the counter. For a split second, you imagined yourself splitting open and becoming two separate people. One being the doctor Naan trained you to be and the other something less controlled. Someone who was tired of listening but never being heard. 
You listened as Naan began to retreat back to her table where the rest of the linens waited to be folded. You listened as another terrible cough violently shook itself free from her lungs as you focused on your work. 
If you couldn’t help Naan you were just going to settle for helping Miss Kaya. Once you finished making Usopp’s requested medicine you were going to be sure he delivered it to her. 
It was time a doctor paid a visit. 
————
The shipyard. 
Of course, Usopp was going to be here. Why you hadn't thought to come here first felt like a mystery all on its own. 
In all the years you’d known him, Usopp’s routine hardly ever changed. He usually performed his usual pirate ritual just before he started his day in the shipyard. He was hired to care for and clean all of the ships housed within, however, and upon no real surprise to you, Usopp cleaned and polished the Going Merry daily. 
So, it didn’t surprise you to find him already on the ship. What did surprise you were the three people standing with him steps away from the Going Merry, herself. 
You didn’t feel alarmed in any way. Usopp was good with people - he enjoyed talking to anyone willing to listen. The man with the straw hat, who was grinning wildly in the direction of Usopp and then to his friends, seemed happy to listen. He was giving Usopp his full attention and whatever your friend was saying was exactly what Straw Hat wanted to hear. 
The other two people beside him, however, didn’t seem to share in the excitement. Sure, the pretty woman with the orange hair was giving all the perfect signaling queues of a smile and nod to make it believable that she was interested in anything Usopp had to say. Did she probably care about whatever was being said? Probably not, but at least she didn’t look as sour as the moss-hair-colored guy- 
Holy shit
Your feet stopped working. Your knees seemed to refuse to bend, to make any movement forward for the last few feet to close the distance to the group. For what reason? There had to be a perfectly good reason- 
Nope. Thoughts gone. Head empty. 
That was the best way to describe what was currently happening as your eyes stayed glued to the three-sword-wielding swordsman standing next to the woman. 
Three swords? You wondered. Where does the other one go?
Maybe you would ask him if you ever summed up the courage to do just that. If you could just get your legs to function again. 
In all the time you’d lived on Shell Island you were more than positive you’d never seen someone that looked close to him. Especially someone carrying around three swords or standing with so much purpose. Even as your eyes took him in you could tell he was pretending to be relaxed, but after years of mending bodies, you noticed the tightness between his shoulder blades. The ease he tried to display with a hand resting on the hilt of the sword wasn’t actually resting. Even relaxed, this man was ready to unsheathe those blades and use them at a moment's notice. 
While the idea made you consider him a great swordsman, your heart also ached at the thought of feeling trapped and weary of others' intentions. 
Your thoughts would’ve continued to run wild as you embarrassingly gawked at this stranger and his friends. All of that was ruined, however, when Usopp caught a glimpse of you between orange and green hair. 
“Doc!”
Usopp’s excitement translated to a crazy arm wave and immediately caused all three of his newfound friends to face you. God, this meant you had to get your legs working. You had to physically move closer. You could do that. No problem. 
Taking in a deep breath, you allowed a genuine smile to raise your lips in welcome. Luckily, your feet didn’t betray you as you moved the last few feet. You made a mental note as you got closer that the straw hat was meeting your smile with his own, while the other two regarded you with lackluster enthusiasm. 
Great. They were the grumpy types of people. 
“There you are Usopp,” you began cheerfully. “I’ve been looking all over for you.” 
“You know, Usopp?” Asked straw hat. 
You felt your brow crease in question as your smile wilted at the corners. 
“I would hope so. We’ve known each other since we’ve lived here.”
“Impressive,” mumbled the woman. 
Okay, maybe she wasn’t as friendly as you originally thought, but she was still definitely friendlier than moss hair. Who currently felt like he was drilling holes into your chest. 
“Ugh, Doc I was just going to take these guys to visit, Kaya,” Usopp interjected. 
He was still smiling - always smiling. His eyes darted to the three new faces before landing back at you. 
“Why would you take them to see, Kaya?”
“She owns the shipyard and we-“Straw hat interjected, “Are in need of a ship. That beautiful ship behind us, to be exact.” 
You glanced behind him to the Going Merry. Kaya’s family ship. 
You shot Usopp a questioning glance that you weren’t surprised to see him ignore. He was up to something there was no doubting that. The issue was you weren’t sure what angle he was trying to play. 
“Good luck with that.” 
You did mean it. You didn’t think he was going to get it no matter how good-natured he seemed. That was still a family memory you weren’t sure Kaya would be willing to part with. 
“Thanks!”
“Doc, before I take them over there do you by chance have what I asked for?”
You patted your satchel for good measure before you replied, “That’s why I was looking for you. I have it right here.” 
Usopp took a step towards you, his hand outstretched in waiting for you to deposit the bottle. When you didn’t comply with his request he shot you a look of worry. 
“You do have it right?”
“Yes, Usopp I told you I did. I just want to come with you to check on her myself.”
A look of worry dimmed the mirth in his eyes for one second. If you didn’t know what to look for you would have missed it entirely. You knew he’d been asking you for months to sneak in with him to visit Kaya. His own suspicions began to outweigh the doubt that plagued his heart with every heavy decision that needed to be made. 
Deep down, Usopp knew if you were finally going to answer his request of sneaking in with him, it must be serious. A concept Usopp himself purposely tried to run from often. 
“Wait, you’re a doctor? That is so cool!” 
You needed to learn Straw Hat’s name because he was growing on you fast. 
“I’m no-“
“She’s actually one of the best doctors in the whole East Blue,” Usopp beamed. “She’s cured this small village of at least two possible plague outbreaks twice already.” 
You were willing to bet your eyes were the size of saucers. There was no way any of them would believe that kind of nonsense. There was absolutely no way- 
“Wow, now that is really impressive! Sounds just like somebody who should be a part of my crew-“
“No!”
“We are not a crew!”
The absolute verbal whiplash you just experienced left your head reeling to pick up on every conversation. Straw Hat was practically turning into pure sunshine in front of you, while the other two were glaring like you’d sprouted three heads. 
Geez, what a tough crowd. 
“Ok, wait what?”
“It’s nothing he doesn’t mean anything by it,” the woman replied, a tight smile thinning out her lips. 
“We don’t need someone pretending to play medicine woman to join us.” 
Your eyes narrowed in on the now green-haired monster. He met your cold glance with his own. Whoever - whatever - he experienced in his life meant he didn’t find you the least bit threatening. He regarded you like an annoyance and you found yourself wondering why the universe made all the grumpy ones the most attractive. 
If his lips pouted any harder he was going to have to rent a kissing booth. 
“For your information, I’m not a pretend doctor.”
Whatever he was going to reply with was cut off by Straw hat who quickly pointed at himself. “I’m Luffy, and these are my companions Nami and Zoro.” 
“It’s nice to meet you, Luffy,” you beamed letting them know your name in response. “But most people just refer to me as Doc because of Usopp.” 
Nami clapped her hands together to bring you both back to the matter at hand. Kaya’s medicine. Their boat. 
“Now that the pleasantries are out of the way, can we get going? We really should stop by and pay her a visit.” 
“Oh yeah! Come on guys, I can show you the fastest way there.” 
Usopp tossed down his rag and skipped backward to the crate where his own satchel sat. 
“Great! If you guys will kindly follow me this way I can show you something really awesome.” 
You wanted to smack some sense into him. Usopp always wanted to be liked - for people to spend time with him and enjoy it. Besides Kaya and you who humored him with his opulent imagination and ability to spin fables like cotton candy. These people, Luffy excluded, did not deserve his endearing desire for friendship. They were both giving off major chip on their shoulder vibes and you vowed to become an even bigger pain in the ass if they were unnecessarily rude to him. 
They didn’t wait to know if you were joining them or even behind them. They all moved forward to follow Usopp, who was spit-firing a conversation at Luffy who easily seemed to match it with his own charisma. Nami and Zoro trudged behind them both and you brought up the rear. 
You’d hoped at some point Luffy or Usopp would drag you into the conversation. Anything that would keep your wandering eyes from constantly burrowing holes between Zoro’s sculpted shoulders. If you didn’t locate some form of self-control soon, you were positive your brain would be sent spinning into a tangent about how martial arts training with weapons was a godsend. So, looking at your feet for the next few miles would have to suffice. 
It was strange how the world between poverty and the rich was such an overwhelming force. The farther you ventured out past the town and into the privacy of the landscape that kept Kaya’s family home hidden, it was a wonder that anyone would know it was there. 
There were endless strawberry fields that farmers planted on one side and potatoes on the other. Dozens of workers tended to their growth with their hard work and sweat until a wall of bamboo cut off any view. All you could see was an endless path swallowed in bamboo branches making the path more foreboding than you thought necessary. 
When you finally came in through the front gates, their iron and mortar was a welcomed sight. The one thing that wasn’t was that stupid Well you’d grown to hate ever since you almost fell in looking over the side as a child. 
“I’ve never seen a house this big before.” 
Luffy’s admission sent your eyes up from your feet to the large garden entrance. And that damned well that sat like a mockery in the middle of the walkway to the front. 
“It’s impressive, right? Kaya’s given me an open invitation to stop by anytime I want.” 
Your eyes darted over to Usopp who was practically skipping with excitement as he and Luffy made their way over to the well. You wanted him to look at you, but you knew he wouldn’t. If he did, Usopp would only find you looking at him - full of questions - with a look calling him a liar. You would never want him to feel bad. It was never your intention, however, it was going to be more embarrassing if you all got caught and thrown out on your ass than just being honest. 
“Wow. That’s pretty awesome,” Luffy breathed. His face was full of wonder as he continued to take in the large space. “All of this is just for one person?”
“Well…she lives here with a few other staff.”
“Yeah. A bunch of asshole staff,” you grumbled under your breath.
By the way, Luffy and Usopp were hanging over the side of the well - ick - neither of them had heard you. Unfortunately, your fellow rear buddies did. 
“You don’t seem to be a fan of the staff?” Nami ventured. 
You eyed her carefully. She came off friendly enough, but she wasn’t giving anything else away. The small smile on her lips wasn’t reaching her eyes. Instead, they were calculating and waiting for you to give her any information you were willing or unwilling to give. 
Nami was incredibly smart and equally dangerous because of it. 
“They do a lot of suspicious things,” you replied slowly, unsure of how much sharing was too much. 
“I’m sure butlers don’t come harboring life-threatening secrets,” Zoro countered.
His hand shoved in a pocket while the other still rested on the sword. He regarded you the way adults do children making up fairytales. The way the townspeople looked at Usopp like a silly child always crying wolf. They both thought you were being silly, and you wish you could say their disregard didn’t make your chest cave in just a bit, but you never were a good liar. 
“No, maybe butlers don’t,” you countered, “but people do.”
When neither of them showed signs of continuing on with the conversation you started forward following Usopp and Luffy. You didn’t care about whatever conversation Zoro or Nami were having behind you. They could’ve been discussing robbing the place blind for all you could care about. 
You were worried more about the people than the objects inside. 
“If you have an invitation, why are we going through the back way?”
Just tell them, Usopp. 
“Oh, well I never go through the front entrance. This is more of a VIP entrance.”
“This guy is full of shit.”
“Yeah, but if he gets us inside who cares.” 
Why was Luffy the only member of this merry band of misfits who weren’t incredibly grumpy? 
“Usopp,” you called out to him in a warning. 
He gave you a glance over his shoulder before he made his way over the giant lily pads without a reply. 
Little shit, you thought as you realized he was very much choosing to ignore your existence. Did you blame him? Not really. You couldn’t remember the last time anyone had humored him this long and you were debating on if you should be the one to crush his newfound hopes and dreams. 
Fortunately for you, you weren’t going to have to be the bad guy in that scenario. One already seemed to exist. 
Just as Usopp reached the second lily pad, you knew something was wrong. The hiccup of an, “Oh,” that came out of him registering as panic. He was already turning back to stop Luffy from coming closer, almost begging him to go to another entrance - an extra special one - when he was interrupted by a knife plunging into the lily pad between his feet. 
A very sharp knife. One you knew could’ve easily severed flesh or nicked an artery. Your blood boiled as you pushed past Luffy, your eyes darting wildly as Buchi stalked towards Usopp who stuttered past a greeting. 
“What the hell are you doing here, Usopp?” He snapped as his hands lurched in to grasp the leather of Usopp’s top. “You know you aren’t welcome here.” 
“I know nothing of the sort. I came to give Kaya an extra-special gift.”
You practically glided past the last lily pad when a sharp hiss cut the air. You didn’t necessarily need to look to see if it was Sham. You knew it was. She stood just off the first step from where they’d been disemboweling the hog, mop at the ready, and her teeth bared directly at you.
“He’s brought the doctor,” she hissed. 
Buchi finally seemed to register your presence from behind Usopp and bared his own teeth in warning. 
“You are definitely not welcome here.”
“A rather odd thing to say to a healer when your mistress seems to be suffering a mysterious illness.”
“An illness we are more than capable of handling.”
“I find that highly doubtful.”
With his hands still holding onto Usopp, Buchi leaned forward to growl - literally growl - in your face like a rabid dog. You wanted to poke him in the eye and were incredibly tempted to do so when a soft voice cut through the tension. 
“Usopp! What a wonderful surprise!”
Everyone’s attention shifted as Kaya made her entrance on the arm of Klahadore. You took a step back and away from the two just so Usopp could twist himself free and walk towards the waiting mistress of the estate. 
“I wouldn’t miss today of all days. Happy birthday, Kaya.”
“You remembered.”
My god, she was practically swooning and Usopp was eating it up. 
“I could never forget.” 
This feels awkward. 
They acted like they didn’t have a captive audience watching them look at each other like two lovestruck teenagers. 
It wasn’t hard to notice how Kaya beamed at him or how that attention brought happiness to Usopp. For as long as you can remember, even as children, Usopp always liked her. Sure, he would play it off as if they were just friends. There was no way she could see him that way, but when Kaya’s parents passed away three years ago what was between them seemed to change. Their feelings became something saturated in an understanding of loss. Usopp knew what Kaya needed because it was something he himself had never truly received. 
So, did it bother you that she actually hadn’t greeted you yet? Not really. What did bother you, however, was the way Klahadore’s eyes slithered over to you. It made you feel like you were going to be sick.
“Usopp. Did you bring the doctor with you?”
Please, let me crawl into a hole and die. 
There was something off about Klahadore. It wasn’t just because he made your skin want to completely crawl off your body. It was the way he sounded every alarm bell in your brain. The way your heart speeds up triggering the fight or flight response that was ingrained in your body's defense system. The way he continued to look at you as if you were a bug that needed to be squashed, only drove the feeling home. 
“Oh, yeah. Kaya, I had Doc make you something for your cough. I figured it might be worth a try.” 
God, he looked so happy. He was completely oblivious to how Klahadore seemed ready to smite you both where you stood. 
You closed your eyes, taking in a deep breath. Maybe when you opened them he wouldn’t be staring daggers into your face. 
Nope. No such luck. 
“Oh, that is so incredibly sweet,” Kaya beamed. 
Klahadore slowly set his hand out in front of him. The cold obsidian of his eyes never left your face as he spoke. “Please hand over whatever tonic you’ve acquired for Miss Kaya.”
You weren’t aware your hand was already in the satchel. Your fingers wrapped protectively tight against the cool glass of the bottle as you continued to stare at one another. 
“Hand it over. Please.”
“No-“
Usopp’s hand on your shoulder stopped you cold. Your teeth ground tightly to stop your next words. You didn’t want to hand that asshole anything. Not when Kaya looked so damn pale. 
Something is wrong. 
The thought wormed its way into your brain until it gnawed at all other thoughts until it consumed every available spot. It was all you could think as your eyes continued to look over her frail frame. 
Naan taught you that as a doctor, and as a healer, it was your job to fight for your patients. To always do what you could and what was best for their care. Was giving the medicine you made for Kaya to Klahadore best for her care. 
No. No, it sure as shit didn’t feel like it. 
Maybe that was why it felt like such a betrayal to take the medicine from your bag and drop it inside his gloved hand. You watched as his disgusting white fingers wrapped around the gray bottle and brought it up to rest closely to his chest. 
“Now, Usopp we’ve had this discussion about coming here unannounced - and this time with a doctor.”
“Nonsense, Klahadore,” Kaya interjected. “They are my friends. What a sweet gesture it was, Doc to try and make me something. Usopp, did you come to tell me more stories about your adventures?”
“I can do you one better. I brought some of my crew.”
With a sweep of his arm, Usopp introduced Luffy, Nami, and Zoro who registered this gesture with sheer disbelief. Well, disbelief would be putting it mildly. 
“Is he talking about us?” 
Luffy sounded as confused as you felt. 
“I’m sorry, but we do not have any room for any extra guests tonight, I’m afraid.” 
“Oh please, Klahadore couldn’t they at least stay for dinner? It is my birthday.”
You hated how Kaya had to beg to have company that wasn’t her staff. You could vaguely remember the butler who was in charge before Klahadore had arrived. Mr. Thorburr had been an absolute delight and genuinely seemed to care about Kaya and her family’s wellbeing. If he was still in charge, you were positive he would’ve believed in letting Kaya outside to enjoy the garden or have friends stop by, even unannounced, to visit. 
One day he was just gone and slowly the only staff that was left were these three assholes. It all felt awfully convenient or maybe you were just being petty because you disliked them.
The way Klahadore looked at her made your stomach turn. 
“Anything for you, Miss Kaya.”
You wondered if he choked a little over each word as they traveled up his throat.
“Great!” Luffy shouted. “When do we eat?”
“You don’t. Not dressed like that. You will change and bathe before dinner. No exceptions.”
Everyone was willing to accept the invitation. The premise of a bath seemed enough to make Nami practically skip forward to be led inside by Sham. Your feet, however, refused to move. Usopp, Luffy, and Nami practically took the small stairs up to the patio in one giant leap. Your earlier dread from the day was back and something dark borrowed its way into your chest. 
Something is wrong. 
You were about to turn tail and run when you noticed Zoro stop at the edge of the stairs. His body turned slightly to eye Klahadore one last time before he turned to follow after his crew. It was small and barely lasted a second, but it was enough. 
Zoro noticed something wasn’t right either and maybe, just maybe, he’d be the one to believe you. All you had to do was join him inside the house to talk to him. No biggie. 
Taking in a deep breath you finally moved to follow behind Kaya and Klahadore. Your eyes intently following a particular green-haired swordsman and wondering how you were going to get him alone. 
The showers seemed like a great place to start.
_______________________
As always, thank you for reading. Reblogs and comments are always welcome.
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rosyblooom · 1 month
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blooming season🌷 (1) | ln4
"grief is just love with no place to go”
PAIRING: lando norris x fem nepo!reader WORD COUNT: 2.6k WARNING(S): mentions of death & blood, swearing SUMMARY: four years after she fled monaco, y/n is back on the anniversary of her father's death. however, an unexpected encounter with an f1 driver disrupts her plans. A/N: my first time doing this, so probably has errors. if you've got any thoughts or requests pls let me know xoxo hope u enjoy! :)
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part 1 <- | part 2
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The scent of salt still lingers in the air, but now it feels different, not as welcoming as it used to be. It's a painful reminder of days gone by, days filled with joy and warmth that now seem distant and unattainable. No matter how hard you try, you can't shake off the memories, replaying them in your mind like a scratched vinyl record that refuses to play properly.
Today marks four years since your father's passing, and four years since you left Monaco. You were just eighteen then, fresh out of high school, when the news of your father's tragic car accident hit you like a ton of bricks. In a desperate attempt to escape the overwhelming sorrow, you packed your bags that very night and left before the weight of it all drowned you.
You couldn't bring yourself to attend your father's funeral, clinging to the hope that maybe, just maybe, it wasn't real. But deep down, you knew the truth—your father was gone, and nothing could change that. Even as you threw yourself into your studies, pursuing a nursing degree, the pain never truly went away.
And now, here you are, sitting alone on this deserted stretch of beach, watching the waves crash against the shore in a steady rhythm.
This spot holds a special place in your heart, known only to a handful of locals—a fact you couldn't be more grateful for. Here, away from the watchful eyes of tourist crowds, you find solace as you simply listen to the earth rotate.
You exhale slowly, leaning forward to brush the sand from your palms before reaching into your bag for the bottle of red wine nestled inside. It takes a bit of effort to uncork it completely, but the satisfying pop is worth the wait. With careful precision, you fill a wine glass to the brim with the rich, maroon liquid—something to take the edge off.
"Welcome back, Y/N," you whisper to yourself, lifting the glass in a silent salute. "Thank you, thank you. I can't imagine anything worse."
A bitter chuckle escapes your lips, a stark contrast to your usual composed demeanour. It's been 1,460 days, yet it feels like your world only just came crashing yesterday.
Needing calm now, you take a sip of the wine, savouring its sweetness, when the sound of approaching footsteps catches your attention, pulling you back to the present moment.
"Seriously?" you think to yourself, feeling your heart plummet like a stone sinking into deep waters. You took every precaution to keep your return under wraps—after all, you paid good money for that privilege.
Arriving just last night, you made it a point to rise at the crack of dawn, a time before the world awoke; a time when it's just you and no one else. You couldn't bear the idea of facing the prying eyes that would surely accompany the day ahead. For once, you didn't want to be known as the daughter of one of Monaco's wealthiest families; you simply wanted to be yourself, stripped of titles and expectations—a daughter mourning her father.
Feeling like a trapped animal, you become acutely aware of every sound and movement, your gaze locked on the figure approaching.
A man.
His brown curls bounce with each step until he comes to an abrupt stop just a few feet away from you.
With a small wave and a nod, he greets you with a simple "Hey."
It takes a moment for you to register that the greeting is directed at you, causing you to tear your gaze away without a response. Your eyes flit between the gentle ripples of the sea and the man settling down uncomfortably close, prompting an annoyed grunt to escape your lips.
“Fuck spatial awareness, huh…,” you mutter under your breath, though not quiet enough to evade his notice. He slips off his black headphones, eyebrows raised in curiosity. "Sorry, what?"
You clear your throat, then sit up straight and gesture expansively. "All this space, and you have to sit right next to me?”
He smiles.
Your gaze narrows.
"But I'm not right next to you," he retorts with a playful grin. "You're all the way over there." He points towards you and then at himself. "And I'm right here."
"Well, it's still too close," you snap.
"Sorry, did you buy this beach or something?" he counters, his grin widening. "Last time I checked, it's open to all members of—."
Growing increasingly frustrated, you interject, "No, I didn't buy anything. I just want some personal space. But clearly, that's lost on you."
With a scoff, you spring to your feet, snatching up your towel and cramming it into your bag, sand and all.
"Wait, you don't have to leave," he insists, his footsteps drawing closer. But you pay him no mind, tossing your phone into your bag and hastily gathering the rest of your belongings from the ground.
Once everything is crammed into your bag, you snatch up your half-empty glass of wine and stand upright, only to feel a foreign warmth enveloping your hand and glass. The man now stands directly in front of you, invading your personal space completely; you have to tilt your head back slightly to meet his piercing green gaze.
"Look, I'm sorry if I did something wrong, but—" he begins, but you cut him off sharply.
"Way too close now," you snap, attempting to pull your hand away, but he refuses to release his grip.
"You do realise I'm trying to apologise, right?" he asks, confusion evident in his eyes.
"I don't care."
His grip remains firm. "There's plenty of space for both of us here."
"It doesn't matter anymore," you respond, your patience wearing thin.
The struggle continues, your voice growing louder with each tug. "Let go of the fucking glass!"
Suddenly, a sharp yell pierces the air, followed by the hollow thuds of broken glass hitting the ground. Shock washes over you as you barely register the sticky liquid trickling down your hand and onto your toes.
"Ah, shit," he exclaims, snapping you out of your daze. You quickly assess the situation, noticing the shattered remnants of the wine glass scattered on the ground, staining the sand crimson.
Panic sets in as you frantically check your hand and feet for any injuries, your eyes wide with fear. After several anxious moments, you breathe a sigh of relief.
I'm okay.
The tranquillity is abruptly shattered by deep groans echoing through the air, drawing your attention to the man's slumped figure with his back turned to you. His face remains hidden from view.
Though he's clearly in pain, you're tempted to slip on your shoes and make a hasty escape. Today is already burdened with its own weight; you're not sure you can handle any more. You even take a step back, ready to flee, but then something stops you.
A pang of guilt washes over you, weighing you down like heavy bags strapped to your legs. With a heavy sigh, you reluctantly admit to yourself, "I can't believe I'm about to do this."
"Okay, fine. How about you put on your big boy boots and let me take a look at that?" you say, crossing your arms expectantly.
There's no reaction from him, not even a response.
Rolling your eyes, you drop your bag onto the sand and cautiously circle around him until you're face-to-face with his unruly brown curls.
"Hello?" you tap his shoulder, frustration creeping into your voice. "Earth to the stranger who doesn't understand personal space?"
"Seriously?" he retorts, his tone sharp.
His eyes meet yours as he straightens up, his expression guarded, but you simply shrug, maintaining a neutral demeanour, and extend your hand.
"Let me see," you say calmly.
For a moment, he simply stares at you in bewilderment, but then he tentatively extends his hand towards yours.
"I see," you breathe, examining the large cut in his palm with care, mindful not to dirty it with your fingers. Despite the blood seeping from the wound, you release a relieved sigh after a thorough inspection—it's not as deep as it initially appeared.
"Alright," you announce, dropping his hand and clapping your hands together. "Go home, make sure nothing touches that hand, clean the cut, and bandage it. Keep it dry for a couple of days, and then reassess."
Without waiting for a response, you turn towards your bag, sling it over your shoulder, and shoot him one final glance.
"This has been... unpleasant," you remark dryly. "I really hope our paths don't cross again. Goodbye."
"Wait!"
You shake your head and ignore him, determined to continue onward.
"Wait!" he calls out again, desperation evident in his tone. "I don't have any bandages!"
You stop walking, considering his words, but still don't turn around.
"And... I don't have any sanitising stuff either," he adds, his voice trailing off slightly.
Slowly, you turn around and wave your hands dismissively in the air, shouting back, "That's what supermarkets are for! I guess it's time for a shopping trip!"
Just as you're about to spin on your heel and leave again, his voice cuts through the distance.
"Look, you seem like you know what you're doing. Can't you just help me out here?"
Shielding your eyes from the harsh glare of the sun, you squint at him as he begins jogging toward you. "That advice," you shout back, "was me helping you out. Trust me, I wanted to leave way earlier."
For a moment, neither of you speaks as you watch him closing the distance between you. When he finally comes to a halt in front of you, you instinctively take two steps back—you need your personal space.
"So?" he says between pants, waiting for your response.
You furrow your brows, deep in thought. "Well, I don't have anything on me, sorry to disappoint. But like I said, there are shops around here."
You resume your walk, but to your dismay, the guy falls into step with you almost immediately.
"So, what? You have nothing at home?" he presses, his gaze burning into the side of your face.
Refusing to meet his eyes, you increase your speed.
"Right, because I'm just going to invite a stranger," you emphasise, "who I didn't want to be around in the first place, into my home."
His hand suddenly grips your arm, causing you to instinctively rip out of his grasp, both of you coming to an abrupt halt.
"What?" you bark, irritation seeping into your tone.
"You can google me," he offers, his voice calmer now. "Lando Norris, Formula One driver. Search my name up. You'll see pictures—every single detail about me, you'll probably find on the internet. Now I'm not a stranger anymore, right?" he suggests, his gaze pleading.
You remain silent, shifting your focus toward the calm waters as you breathe in and out. It feels as though the world has paused, waiting for you to come to a decision, to reach a conclusion.
Today, the anniversary of your father's death, is a day you've been dreading yet anticipating for so long. Its disruption unsettles you, but deep down, you know you can't simply ignore it. As much as you wish to skip over this chapter of your life, tear out its pages, and never look back, you can't. It's not healthy.
Still, that doesn't mean you can't delay it for a little while longer.
"Fine," you sigh, relenting to the situation, and begin rummaging through your bag until you locate your phone.
Quickly, you extract it and raise it to Lando's face, snapping a photo of him with the flash on.
"What the hell?" he exclaims, blinking rapidly.
"For my protection," you state matter-of-factly. "Just because you're famous doesn't mean you can't be a bad person."
Once his gaze meets yours again, he runs a hand through his hair and offers a sheepish smile. "Fair enough."
You nod, acknowledging his words, and continue your walk toward the car park.
"I'm not a bad person, though," he adds quickly, catching up to you.
"Colour me convinced," you reply dryly.
*********
As you approach the car park, annoyance bubbles within you at the sight of it: filled with cars and swarmed by dozens of people.
"You said you're a Formula One driver, right?" you ask, tilting your head up at Lando.
"Yeah, why?" he responds.
Instead of answering, you grab the hood of his jacket and pull it over his head.
"Why did you do that—" Lando begins, but you cut him off.
"The last thing I need is a mob of your fans, okay?" you interject firmly. "The quicker we get this done, the sooner we can go our separate ways."
Lando chuckles as he adjusts the hood. "I'm really that bad, huh?"
"Worse," you deadpan.
"...Right."
With your raven car in sight, you quicken your pace, relief flooding through you. The last thing you want is for people to realise you're back, especially not today.
However, as if your luck has run out, a woman steps in front of you, blocking your path. You immediately turn your focus to Lando, motioning for him to take a picture with his fan and hurry up.
But instead of the attention falling on him, a weight suddenly falls onto your shoulder, catching you off guard. You clear your throat, preparing to speak, but the woman beats you to it.
"Oh my goodness, Y/N. It's you, isn't it?" the woman exclaims, her voice filled with recognition and sympathy.
You can't reply; your mouth feels dry, your tongue heavy with unspoken words.
No, not today. Please, not today.
"I'm so sorry for your loss, Y/N," she continues, her expression radiating pity. It's uncomfortable—the way she looks at you, the way she touches your shoulder so gently. It feels like you're being burned alive, yet you're immobilised, just as you were four years ago when you first heard the news.
"Your father was such an amazing man. And you, I mean, you've been missed. My daughter loves you—"
Suddenly, you're being pulled forward, jolting you out of your trance. You struggle to keep your balance as you try to comprehend what's happening—the woman is gone, and Lando's hand is firmly clasped around yours, pulling you closer to him.
Your personal space has been completely invaded, yet you don't feel the usual urge to pull away. Even if you did, you're not quite sure Lando would let you.
"Your car's the black one, right?" you hear him ask, but the words don't immediately register.
"Huh?" you mumble, still reeling from the encounter.
"That black car over there," Lando points and leans in close, his gaze locked with yours, "that's yours, right?"
You nod, still not quite ready to speak.
Lando releases your hand and holds out his palm to you. "Okay, car keys, please?"
"What? No," you shake your head, rejecting the idea. "There's no need for that."
"Come on, I'm a Formula One driver, remember? I won't crash it."
"It would be irresponsible of me to let you drive in this state," he adds, his voice firm.
"And what about your hand?" you nod toward the injury.
"Like I said," Lando smiles slyly, cocking his head to the side, "I drive race cars; I think I can handle driving with one hand."
Rolling your eyes, you relent, "Okay, fine."
With a sigh, you fish out the car keys from your bag and hand them over to him.
4:05 ───────────ㅇ─ 4:28
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syrupgirl · 1 year
Text
Request:
Could u write a fic ab Sully family x y /n reader? Where she lives with the sully family after her parents died, she gets taken by the colonel in the forest and is set up for bate because he knows she important to the Sully family.
a/n: the way I interpreted this, reader is taken by herself rather than what happens in the film where all of the kids get taken. I did use the rough layout of the scene for inspo but it does diverge from cannon ie Neteyam is with the kids when they get discovered. I hope that’s similar enough to what you mean. also reader is na’vi and around Neteyam’s age :p
Sullys stick together -The Sully family
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“Catch me if you can!” Tuk yelled. Her little feet pattering along the branch of an enormous tree, while you and the rest of the Sully children chased her for sport.
She giggled delightedly, dodging out of the way of Lo’ak’s hand.
You really weren’t supposed to be out this far. Too close to the battlefield Jake had said. To close to where the sky people had already begun laying their claim on Pandora. Not if the Na’vi had anything to say about it.
But oh, it was such a beautiful day, almost no clouds in the sky, Kenten floated around you with the unfurled fan necks slowing their descent. Who wouldn’t want to get carried away with the day?
Suddenly, little Tuk ran into the trunk of a tree and startled back, falling on her butt. Kiri rushed forward and kneeled beside her, rubbing her back.
“Oh Tuk, are you ok? Are you hurt?” Kiri asked, ever the nurturer.
Tuk rubbed her nose and sniffed, tiny little tears blooming in her eyes. “Yeah, just got a fright, that’s all.”
Kiri helped the youngest sully stand up and continued to comfort her. Tuk reassured her sister that she was ok and Kiri relented. Tuk then wandered off to continue her little adventure.
“Wait, guys! Look!” Lo’ak whisper shouted.
Everyone looked to the direction he was pointing. Spider’s eyes widened and he even gasped a little.
“Wow, bro. That’s where my dad and your dad fought, right?” He asked Neteyam.
Neteyam didn’t answer right away, looking almost sheepish. “Yeah, bro.”
Lo’ak looked like he could barely keep still, a giddy grin upon his face.
“Well c’mon! Let’s have a look inside!” He was about to spring up when you put a firm hand on his shoulder.
“No way! We have no idea what’s in there, there could be some old tech still active, or…I don’t know, some angry beast!”
Despite not being a blood member of the Sulky family, after Jake and Neytiri took you under their wing and growing up with them for so long cemented your place among them as family. You were as much Neteyam’s sister as Tuktirey was.
Despite not being a blood member of the Sully family, they listened to you and cared about what you had to say, or that’s what you thought.
“That’s why we have our knives, skxawng.” And with that Lo’ak got you to sprint to the abandoned lab. Well, he would’ve had it not been for the tussling of the bushes opposite where you were all crouching.
“Sit down!” Neteyam gritted out, he grabbed his younger brother by the back of his neck and yanked him back down beside him. Lo’ak started to protest, talking about how it was probably some harmless animal. The sound of voices shut him down. Voices speaking in, english.
You were confused. Sky people should not have gotten this far out without drawing attention of the clan. Neteyam motioned for everyone to be still and you all watched on as the voices got closer.
Neteyam turned on his comms and started speaking to Jake. You could guess what he was saying; do not engage, retreat, stay low and out of sight. All very good suggestions in your opinion.
You kept your gaze intently to the direction of the voices, just waiting for them to pop out so you could get a good look at them and hopefully get some answers to your burning questions.
For better or for worse your questions were answered sooner than you thought.
Aside from the speaking english, the only thing that gave them away for being avatar and not Na’vi was the tactical gear. They were fully decked out. A few of them had arms decorated with tattoos and…sunglasses, Jake had called them.
They slowly approached the abandoned lab with guns raised and eyes everywhere. You all ducked down further once you realised you were way out of your league. Unarmed humans you might be able to handle. Armed humans, definitely more difficult but you had done it before, but avatar who were armed to the teeth along with the strength and speed of the na’vi made for a dangerous mix. You all watched as they searched through the building, overturning the insides of it.
“Come on, dad is on his way, he told us to fall back.” Neteyam’s urged all of you, gesturing into the forest behind him.
“What? No! This is our- my chance to prove to dad that I can help! I can be an asset to the people!”
Neteyam and Lo’ak continued to bicker when you noticed Kiri looking around, looking around desperately.
“Kiri?” you asked, “what’s wrong?”
The girl looked almost brought to tears when she looked up to you.
Her voice trembled, “Where is Tuk?”
Oh god.
She had disappeared before Lo’ak had picked up on the lab.
No one had seen her since.
Kiri clasped her hands around her mouth, she looked about as scared as you felt. God, little Tuktirey.
Abruptly, the group of avatars in front of you trained their guns on clump of trees of to your right. You had heard the sound too, a snap of a small branch or twig. Whatever had stepped on it was light.
Light enough to be Tuk.
The hostiles started to walk toward the noise. It’s like you were watching them in slow motion. Off to the side you could see Kiri’s eyes widen, horror flashed across her face. Spider had a similar expression, his eyebrows upturned in the centre. Lo’ak and Neteyam had stopped their fighting and just looked scared out of their own minds. Neteyam for once didn’t have a solution for everything.
So you did the only thing you could think of. A stupid, stupid thing looking back on it, a stupid thing parading itself as bravery. You scrunched your face, said a silent prayer to Eywa to deliver Tuk to safety and to give you strength for whatever was to happen.
You lept out from behind the log and dashed out of cover.
The avatars snapped their attention to you and raised their guns, but you kept charging towards them. Unsheathing the small knife you kept on you at all times, you cried out.
An avatar with short cropped hair on the top of his hair held out his hand and caught you around the neck. He didn’t hold you tight enough to strangle you, but tight enough that you couldn’t escape. He lifted you up into the air like you were fresh prey.
You struggled and snarled, trying to get your knife in any part of him that you could reach.
“Well, well, well, lookie here…” Quaritch chuckled darkly. He motioned for his squad to lowers their guns and the obeyed, observing their colonel with obvious amusement. It made you sick, you probably outwardly grimaced.
“I’ve seen you somewhere before.” He muttered. Quaritch made a show of ‘hmmm’ing and scratching his chin in fake thought. “Ah yes, i’ve seen your runnin’ around with the Sully spawn. You’ve been causin’ a lot of trouble, you and those other brats.”
You pretended not to understand him, opting to keep snapping and thrashing at him. It was not a complete lie; while Jake had taught you some basic english, you could probably only form the sentences of a small human child.
“The thing looks feral…” A teammate muttered from behind the colonel and the squad laughed.
“Don’t be fooled, soldier. These Na’vi can be quite clever when they put their heads together.” The colonel responded.
Thinking of your family behind you, you hoped and prayed that they had retreated back with Tuktirey.
Quaritch lowered you to the ground but before you tried to make a break for it, he wove his fingers through your hair and pulled hard.
You bit your teeth to stifle a scream and reached up to attempt to pry his hand off of your head.
“I know that there’s more of you back there, in the tree line, so you behave and my team will leave them be.” Fear flooded you at that, hearing that this man knew you weren’t alone. With a snap of his fingers he could have you all held hostages. So you stilled. You rested your hands back at your sides and begrudgingly set your gaze on him.
The avatar holding you smiled.
“Children o’ Sully! You listen here,” he spoke in english before switching into what seemed to be pretty broken na’vi, “you tell your father to come here, and this girl will be returned unharmed in exchange for his compliance.”
At least he didn’t know Neteyam had already been in contact with both Jake and Neytiri. If they just pretended to leave, Jake and Neytiri would think of a plan. Like they always do.
The bushes where everyone was hiding rustled. Quaritch tensed and the avatars behind you raised their guns once more, but the bushes stilled, no other came from it.
You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. You hoped that they had gone back home or at least taken Tuk back.
“Alright everyone, I’m guessing we can expect Jake Sully and his mate getting here pretty soon.” He drawled, turning to face his team. “Get ready for an attack. Be on your guard and keep your new eyes and ears sharp.”
-
Jake and Neytiri quietly dismounted their Ikran and armed themselves. Neytiri looked as if she was shaking with rage, her mouth downturned and her eyes looking for a threat.
“Hey, I’m sure they’re all fine. They’re tough kids, they’re our kids which make them tougher.” Jake attempted a joke but it died out in the silence when Neytiri did not respond.
They hadn’t landed far from where Neteyam told them they were and they were almost silent as they crept forward into the thicket.
A flutter of motion from they’re left has Neytiri’s bow drawn and aimed at the spot.
“Mom! It’s just us! It’s me, Lo’ak!” Lo’ak revealed himself from his hiding spot, arms raised and Neytiri breathed a watery sigh.
She rushed forward, took her baby in her arms, and held him tightly. Lo’ak wrapped his arms around her neck and squeezed. From behind him, Neteyam and spider emerged too, looking a little more embarrassed. Jake looked at his eldest and frowned.
“Where are your sisters?” He asked. Neytiri finally set Lo’ak down and gasped a little, noticing the absence of three of the Sully children.
“Kiri took Tuktirey back home and..” Neteyam looked ashamed, “yn was taken.”
His mother squeezed her eyes closed. Even if you weren’t born of her, you were her daughter. The idea of you being taken, as bait no less, had her heart in her stomach and her chest alight with anger.
Jake sighed and his face turned stony. “You all stay here, stay hidden, while we clean up your mess.” He whispered. The boys wilted and sunk back.
-
Your legs were starting to ache with how long you had been standing and your scalp with how hard the grip he had on your hair.
The man who had been holding you earlier passed you off to another one of his teammates, who seemed to take liberties in yanking your hair every once and a while.
The once clear sky had filled with clouds and rain trickled down through the canopy above you. No one had spoken in a long time, like everyone was holding their breath.
Suddenly, your ear twitched and you flicked your eyes to where you had heard…something. It could just be the sounds of the forest, an animal eating a plant or a ripe piece of fruit hitting the earth, but this sound sounded out of place, made my something not of the forest.
You caught a glimpse of something blue ducking behind the trunk of a wide tree. They had been holding what looked like a bow. Neytiri!
You shut your eyes and thanked Eywa for delivering you a mother as magnificent and brave as her.
Everything was still for a while and you wondered why Neytiri hadn’t taken a shot. Had she left? In an attempt to look like you were getting drowsy, you slumped a back into the avatar holding you. Your head hit his chin as you did so. He shoved you forward again, tugging your hair as he did so.
That’s why she hadn’t taken a shot, there was too much of a risk of hitting you. You looked up to where you had seen her before and caught her eyes. She had been staring at you intently the whole time, waiting for an opening.
So you gave her one.
You hoped she understood what you tried to say in a single look.
Saying another silent prayer to Eywa, you grabbed the arm that wasn’t gripping your hair, brought it up to your mouth, and bit down as hard as you could.
The man screamed, “You little bitch!”
Thankfully, on instinct he let go of your head and you had just enough time to duck out of the way before an arrow hit him straight between the eyes.
-
Twigs and leaves crunched beneath your feet and you made a break into the forest. You didn’t dare look back behind you. Gunshots rang through the air, some even whizzed past you.
Just as you jumped over the fallen trunk of a tree, an arm caught you from the side. You fought against it, landing a blow against whoever’s face had snatched you.
They groaned and let you go.
“Be calm! It’s just me!” Spider said as he held his now bloody nose.
You gasped and reached out to touch his face. “Oh Spider, I’m so sorry. You scared me!”
He shook his head a little before standing up, offering you a hand. “It’s fine, let’s go. Lo’ak and Neteyam already left.”
You took his hand and the two of you ran through the forest together. Never daring to look back.
-
When Jake and Neytiri returned, you knew you were all in for it.
You and your siblings listened outside of their tent, listening to them argue. You held Tuk to you, you didn’t want her to hear what they were saying but she insisted, so all you could do was let her know she wasn’t alone.
Jake stormed out of the tent and you all pretended to be looking at anything else. Smooth.
“yn, get over here.” He ordered. Lo’ak patted you on the back and walked away with the others.
“That stunt you pulled!? That’s not on, okay? It was stupi-!”
You interrupted him, “What I did was stupid, but I don’t regret it. If I hadn’t, Tuk would have been in my position and I couldn’t stand by and watch that happen, sir.” Jake was silent at that. The same stern look painted across his face and his eye twitched.
You stood your ground.
He stood his. For a while.
Until he broke.
The hard look he had softened and he just looked like a tired dad. You realised how stressed he must be, knowing that an old enemy was back and would go through his family to get him. He though he had lost Neteyam earlier this week, and now his daughter? You could have sympathy for him.
You approached him and wrapped your arms around his broad chest. “I’m sorry, dad. I’m sorry for worrying you.”
It felt as if his chest buckled at that and he returned your hug.
“Don’t ever scare me like that again. Alright, soldier?”
You smiled up at him and gave him a. mock salute.
“Yes, sir.”
6K notes · View notes
moonydustx · 1 month
Text
I look better under you
Based on the song Snooze - Sza
Roronoa Zoro x F!Reader
Warnings: smut, mentions of scars, jealousy. Doesn't exactly follow plot canon.
Summary: After two years apart after the incident with Kuma in Sabaody, you and Zoro meet again.
A/N: I was thinking about doing some stories based on songs, especially in the future using one from Cowboy Carter for Ace because it makes so much sense to me. While that doesn't happen, we're left with Snooze, which is one of my favorites from Sza.
requests open | one piece masterlist
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Long as you dreamin' 'bout me, ain't no problem
I don't got nobody, just with you right now
Tell the truth, I look better under you
I can't lose when I'm with you
How can I snooze and miss the moment?
You just too important
Nobody do body like you do
Your body itched when you saw a handful of greenish hair appearing on the horizon of the Sabaody archipelago. It was two long years without seeing each other, without talking, without the little escapades in the crow's nest where you spent hours tangled up in each other. Before you could prepare to talk to him, Sanji and Luffy also appeared in your field of vision, running in some direction you hadn't noticed yet.
"Let's go!" Luffy passed you who immediately started running to keep up with them.
"Finally a beautiful and real woman." Sanji's eyes practically threw hearts in your direction. "So beautiful, so fragrant, so..."
For a few seconds you thought Zoro was going to complain about Sanji, like they always did, but he remained quiet just as he didn't show any reaction when he saw you.
Your companions didn't know about the little escapades the two of you had and for a long time it was what made sense to you. Until your eyes witnessed Kuma erase Zoro's existence before your eyes, at least that's what you believed for a while.
"Isn't that the pretty girl from Thriller Bark?" Sanji caught your attention. A few meters away you recognized the pink hair and the gothic style.
The woman's face was almost glued to Zoro's as she yelled at him. Too close to be just a coincidence. "Why haven't you left here yet?" "I brought you here for nothing." Perhaps your vision was obstructed by the anxiety of being back - which now became a bitterness on your lips. Apparently the two years passed differently for him.
Ignoring the confused feelings, you and your companions ran towards the Sunny and before the navy even thought about reaching you, the ship was already sailing towards the next island.
"It's so good to have everyone back!" Nami hugged you tightly in a hug. "Come on, tell me what you were doing this whole time."
Islands with carnivorous plants, strange laboratories, giant birds, a castle with a certain girl with pink hair. Zoro was sitting next to you. As they listened to everyone talk, something about his posture seemed to show some discomfort in being there.
Everyone seemed to accumulate stories and adventures to tell and despite the small puddle of hurt that accumulated in you, you were happy to see your friends again.
"And you." Robin turned towards you. "What challenges have you encountered?"
"I went to a village that was being attacked by venomous insects. We had to keep shooting at them all the time and maybe that improved my aim." You took one of the small knives from your waistband and threw it past the small gap between Nami's neck and hair.
"Shown off." Zoro murmured next to you, attracting your attention for a brief second.
"Did the animals do this?" Usopp pointed to your arm.
Attracting everyone's eyes, you turned your arm, showing the scars that started on your fingers and went almost to the height of your shoulder.
"No." you smiled sympathetically as the shooter looked on attentively. "Let's just say not everyone on this island was nice or interested in the end of the demonic insects."
The others nodded and it didn't take long for them to engage in another story, paying attention to all the news. Even though you weren't looking in his direction, you could feel yourself being watched the entire time.
After a long conversation, everyone decided to explore Sunny. Review what they left behind, prepare for the next challenges. Before you could do the same, you felt an arm pulling you towards one of the rooms.
"What the hell is this." you saw Zoro in your field of vision. One of his hands closed the door and the other rested on the side of your head.
"It's been so long." he murmured, his face seeking the direction of your lips. Begrudgingly, you dodged his kiss. "What?"
He tried again and saw you repeat the gesture. It took his brain a few seconds to process all the possibilities.
He tried again and saw you repeat the gesture. It took his brain a few seconds to process all the possibilities.
"I understand." he started walking away. "Two years is too long, I understand that maybe you found someone else."
"I did this?" The tone of his voice was shrill and full of indignation. "Says the guy who was with the goth girl there. Did you enjoy your enchanting romance in an incredible castle?"
"Are you crazy?" Zoro analyzed you for a few seconds, seeing how safe it was to approach you. His hands found your chin and when you tried to move away from his touch, Zoro held on even tighter. "You know I had nothing to do with her. You know no one is like you."
Your own hands found his and went up to your face, relief was written on your face. Gently, one of your fingers traced the scar that closed his eye.
"Who made this?" you whispered, wanting to hold that little moment between the two of you.
"No one that matters now." He turned his face, kissing one of your hands. His gaze soon reached your immense scar. "About what you said outside, who was the bastard that hurt you?"
"No one that matters now." You smiled, enjoying his touch on your face. "You know I hate her, don't you?"
"Perona?"
"I wish I had killed that bitch in Thriller Bark!" you grumbled, earning a laugh from Zoro.
He wanted to kiss you, heavens he wanted to be able to take you there but he had missed hearing you too much and seeing your eyes shining in his direction. Everything else could wait.
"You only say that because she was playing with the ghosts and you."
"Exactly." your hands went down to the back of his head, pulling him closer. "I'd kill that bitch again just to think of her stealing what's mine."
You could feel Zoro's laughter almost on your skin, given the proximity. "So jealous" he murmured and before his lips stole yours, the two of you were interrupted when you were thrown from the door and the presence of a euphoric Luffy appeared.
"Let's eat! Sanji is going to make a huge feast for you and us." he pulled you by the shoulders. "Can you get your knife between Brook's ribs, say yes, please."
"Does he know you want to do this?" you asked him, taking advantage of Zoro's support to stand up.
"He said he'll accept it, if you let him see the color of your panties." Luffy spoke with a naturalness that brought laughter from you and a groan from the swordsman.
"He won't see, but..." you warned, tugging at the waistband of your pants. "It's pink, with white polka dots." Brook's scream outside indicated that he had heard the entire conversation and had probably combusted.
"Hit his head." Zoro grumbled, leaving the room before you.
A lot of thrown knives, a huge feast made by Sanji - and considering that Luffy ate more than half of it claiming he missed the food the cook made. You watched some of your friends retreat to your quarters.
"Has anyone seen Zoro?"
"He said he would be upstairs if anyone needed him." Chopper warned you and you thanked him, leaving him behind.
Knowing he would probably be alone, you walked up the stairs to the crow's nest and entered unceremoniously. Zoro was lying down, contemplating the ceiling.
"I thought it would take longer." He stood up, coming towards you.
"It's just that everyone is going to sleep, I think we can talk properly now." the words barely had space to leave your lips before Zoro reached you and crashed his lips into yours.
Your hands were against his chest and even though you wanted to move away to at least try to talk before finding out what happened during this time outside, Zoro's lips took yours in an intoxicating way. Honey, drinks and longing mixed in your mouths.
"We can talk later." he murmured, almost reading your thoughts. "I just miss you."
"Me too." your lips heaved as you felt his arms lift you so that your legs were wrapped around his.
Such a movement was made only so that Zoro could take you to the ground in a strange delicacy on his part. The green threads became your fingers' favorite path while his hands removed the few pieces of clothing that your body still had.
"No one that matters now?" he traced some scars that adorned your back and watched you twitch. "I'll still kill the bastard."
"This someone is no longer here for you to take revenge on." you took his lips as a distraction for your hands to slide over the shoulders hidden in the kimono.
"That's my girl."
Scars, bruises, nothing would take away the pleasure of Zoro's contemplation. The long two years didn't really seem that long until he saw you. How can you wait so long? How did he not go crazy and come back even if he swam to Sabaody?
"Hi greenie." You caught his attention by letting your hands caress his cheek. "Are you ok babe?"
"You are so beautiful." The words came out suddenly as if it were common for you to hear that every day.
If it were up to him alone, he would make a point of repeating that all night and for the rest of the next nights as well. Your eyes looking down at him asking for attention to your body, your legs closing against his body, small sighs as you felt him touch you. You underneath him was one of the best sights Zoro would have for the rest of his life.
His lips traced every contour of your skin. Every shiver was swallowed by a kiss, every shiver was trapped between his lips. The damp fabric of your panties didn't last long as a hindrance to the swordsman who turned you into tatters. It was like enjoying a feast after years of scarcity, drinking the divine honey that flowed from you.
"Still delicious." "I missed you so much."
Zoro couldn't contain a light laugh when he saw you cover your mouth with both hands, avoiding the screams that hit your body as you poured yourself onto his lips. Your waist took on a life of its own with the sensitivity of your pussy against his tongue.
Without any effort, Zoro turned you around and, handling you, placed your body on top of him, in a lotus position. His cock brought friction against your clitoris, your belly burning with pure anxiety and his hands made your hips move against him without even penetrating you. Your lips already hurt from the pressure you used to not let any noise escape.
"Let me hear you, please." One of his hands caught your hair, placing your head against the back of his neck. "Moan just for me baby. I need to hear you."
"Zoro, fuck, don't torture me. Just fuck me, please."
Hearing you beg was the closest thing a devil like him would get to heaven. Wrong, so wrong. Feeling your pussy contract with every inch he put in, that was paradise.
Despite feeling like you could explode at any moment, you moved slowly, not wanting the night to end. The grips against your ass, the eager hands pressing you against the base of his cock. Neither of them seemed to be able to last long.
The peak reached you first, your lips against the sweaty back of your neck, your fingers prickling the green strands begging for more and more, it was enough for Zoro to sink his teeth into your soft skin, containing his own moans and filling you up.
He lay down, still keeping himself inside you and allowing you to lay against his chest.
"You have new ones too." Your fingers traced some new scars.
"You don't like them?"
"Still beautiful, as always. Zo?"
" What do you need, sweet?"
"I know it wasn't our choice, but... Promise that if we get separated again, we'll find a way and find each other." Your eager eyes drew a sigh from the man, who pressed you even tighter against his embrace.
"This is the easiest promise I've ever made."
The sun began to rise when you could no longer keep your eyes open. With your body tied to Zoro's and covered by his kimono, without worrying if anyone would arrive, the two of you both took a snooze.
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50shadesofrossi · 2 years
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Ruining You
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Ser Harwin Strong x Female Reader
Summary: You’re Viserys’ eldest daughter, the blood of the dragon running thick. You have a temper, and it seems Harwin is the only one brave enough to tame it despite your mutual loathing
Warnings: Smut, angst, fluff, swearing and depictions of violence
A/N: Holy shit. This was originally 13k words but in the last thousand the plot went a bit haywire and the writing was bleh so I deleted that and just fixed a few things to make it where it is now. I sincerely apologise if this isn’t what you thought when I originally posted the idea, it did kind of run away on me but at the same time, I lowkey love it. Enjoy, this 12k fic :)
Rage boils deep within your veins, the bubbles extremely close to spilling over. Your father always said you and your sister Rhaenyra share the blood of the dragon, especially the hot temperament, though he underestimated just how ferocious you can get, even as a child. 
You feel every emotion with such a raw intensity that sometimes you don't know what to do, or how to deal with it and it explodes, consuming you whole and turning you into someone entirely different. Your alter ego, as your uncle Daemon calls it. 
Much like now, wildfire blazing within your eyes, steam simmering out of your ears and blood spilling into your mouth from grinding your teeth so hard. It takes every ounce of strength to not erupt, destroy anything in your path and embarrass your father further. 
"Are you even listening to me?!" Viserys yells from the throne, his voice echoing down the great hall for all to hear. 
No, you're not listening to him, too busy trying to direct your anger elsewhere, direct it at someone else. Pain flares up your arms, wrapping around like a snake as your nails dig into your palms. 
Viserys calls your name and almost stumbles back in response to your attention flickering up to him. "Is that all, your grace?" You grit. 
The small group of occupants cease breathing. Viserys sighs exasperatedly, gesturing for your dismissal. Without hesitation you spin on your heel, marching your way out of the hall and toward the fastest exit out of the Keep, away from prying eyes. 
Servants, lords and ladies all evacuate the premises, steering clear of your path of destruction as you make your way toward the back of the gardens, your secret area you call it. Your dress swishes around your ankles, your heeled boots clipping the ground. 
You barely make it in time, rounding the large tree and searching for your hidden blade. The steel glints under the sunlight, ringing as it slashes through the air and makes contact with the already-exposed bark. Bits fly everywhere with each swing, your bottled-up rage slowly leaking out. 
You don't hear the person approach, nor do you feel the eyes watching you intently, silent and observing. To say the knight is used to your outbursts is an understatement. You never fail to remind him of who you're descendant from, the unyielding anger and raw emotions of a Targaryen. 
A dragon. 
"Fuck!" You scream angrily, tears pricking the corner of your eyes and your knees buckling. You hit the earth harshly, staining your dress, not that you care at this moment. 
The sword falls from your grip, landing amongst the dirt. 
"I half expected you to climb atop your dragon and burn King's Landing to the ground," the knight muses from behind you, making himself known and slowly approaching you like a rabid animal. 
You squeeze your eyes shut, wishing him away and hoping to awaken from this horrible nightmare. You hear the debris snap under his weight with each step closer, reigniting your hatred. 
With precision, despite the dress, you come to your feet and whirl around, your hand having grasped your blade in the process. "And you best believe I'd burn you first, you fucking snitch." You seethe, pointing the end toward him. 
"Princess-" he starts, daring to place his foot down and inch himself closer. 
"Unless you want to be choking on your blood Ser Harwin," you address him. "I'd stand down and leave me be." 
Harwin swallows thickly, an inkling of fear rolling down his spine. "It wasn't me," he starts off carefully, deciding to keep his distance. "I never told anyone, certainly not your father or mine. But to be truthful, I'm glad someone else did." 
"Liar," you approach him with purpose, resting the point of the blade on his knitted tunic. "You have the most to gain by staying on his good side, being rewarded with his favour; Commander of the Gold Cloaks." He holds your eye, his fingers twitching. "My uncle is bound to screw up eventually and when that happens, you'll slide right into his position. All you heirs are the same." 
"Princess," he tries again. 
"Breakbones." 
His jaw flexes. You've struck a nerve, a nerve you love to hit. "Don't," he warns. 
"Go guard your honourable princess, and leave me alone. I'm in no tolerable mood." You indicate your younger sister, Rhaenyra. 
Harwin breathes steadily through his nose, ignoring the fact that you're trying to get under his skin, to piss him off like you are. It's almost routine by now, especially when you're this riled up. 
"And so you plan to torture the tree? With that flimsy sword, which by the way, will shatter the moment it meets real steel." 
You close your eyes, inhaling deeply and exhaling harshly. Harwin makes a split-second decision, one that he's sure will land him as food for your dragon. He knocks your sword away, the unexpected force causing you to stumble back and blink up at him. 
"Never take your eyes off your opponent." 
Confusion begins to overlap your previous state, your fingers twisting for a better grip on the handle of your sword that now is by your side. "What are you-" 
"Who taught you to wield a sword?" You don't answer. Harwin speaks your name, a different kind of fire burning within you. "Who taught you?" He presses, his tone firm, as though he talks to a child. 
"Ser Criston Cole." 
"Ser Criston Cole," he drawls, almost in disbelief. "Of fucking course." He mumbles to himself. His own kind of anger sparks, his skin crawling at the thought of the two of you alone. "And let me guess, you begged and pleaded with him to teach you how to defend yourself because you know that going outside the Red Keep is a stupid fucking idea." 
He should slap himself for speaking so indirectly, informally to you, his princess. Yet, he couldn't stop the words from spilling out. 
During your nights, you spend them down in Flea Bottom, or anywhere that's not the Red Keep, spreading your wings and soaring. You hate being holed up, being monitored and being expected to carry out duties you never asked for, never wanted. Even as a child, you wished you of been born to a low-born family, even a lady and lord would be better than King Viserys' firstborn. 
When your mother and brother passed, Viserys was prepared to bake you his heir, but you declined. You could think of nothing worse, having seen the stress and duty your father must endure on a day-to-day basis. You know Rhaenyra will be a better Queen. 
Not to mention, you wish to marry for love. As childish and dreamer-like for you to want, you gave up fighting years ago. 
On most of your escapades, Harwin finds you, and ultimately drags you back to the safety of the Keep. He's the only knight that you know of, that's caught you, leading you to believe he is responsible for reporting it to your father. Hence why you were abruptly dragged from your chambers this morning. 
"And you think you can do better? Ser Criston at least understands that I'll do as I please, not try and reprimand me at every given chance." You lower your voice. "And watch yourself, Ser Harwin, I'm still your princess, no matter how much you hate it." 
Regret flashes in his eyes before it's gone. "Then let's see what you've learnt." 
Harwin draws his sword, knowing damn well he could be executed for doing so. But at this moment, you're both too wound up to differentiate between what's right and wrong. A habit, of the both of you. 
You flinch at the large sword, deep down knowing Harwin would never jeopardise you, never put you in harm's way or risk hurting you. You lift your chin, swallowing the lump in your throat and raising your sword. 
He watches in amusement, allowing you a heartbeat before he attacks, bringing his sword down. You block with ease, unprepared for how light it is. He's pulling all his strength back. You push the sword away, moving around and keeping your footwork light, smirking. 
"Is something funny?" Harwin raises an unimpressed brow, his eyes never leaving you. 
You bite back a smile at his clear agitation. "No." 
He grunts, striking again. Your reflexes move before you think, blocking and attempting to counterattack yourself, refusing to show your frustration. He's still clearly overpowering you and much more experienced. 
You silently pray for those that meet the end of Harwin's fury. 
"Tell me, Princess" he starts, a loud ringing vibrating into the area as your swords clash. "Has Ser Criston taught you hand-to-hand combat, or how to escape someone's grip?" 
The question takes you off guard, your head tilting as you try to remember. Harwin uses the moment to smack your sword out of your hand, his own dropping for your safety and his arms wrapping around you. 
You cease breathing, the constricted in your throat and your heart skipping a beat. An arm gently presses against your throat, Harwin having put you in a controlled headlock, your back flush with his front. 
Your lips part, your fingers instinctively digging into his arm. Heat crawls up your neck, blood pounding in your ear. You know this is a training exercise, but you can't help in feeling so safe in his arms. Your muscles automatically relax, your adrenaline calms and your breath slowly comes back to you with each second. 
You should hate the situation you're in. Granted, if it was any other person you'd be kicking up a shit storm and preparing to have them fed to your dragon but it's not just anyone. It's Harwin, and that makes you hate him more. 
Hate him for having this effect on you, for consuming your thoughts and imprinting himself amongst your dreams. Though you know he's not to blame, it's yourself. 
For falling so profoundly, and irrevocably in love with him. 
"No doubt, you could handle yourself in an armed fight but what if they get the upper hand, like I did just now, and you're left with close combat, or even worse, they grab you like this," Harwin says to you, his voice thickening with an emotion you can't quite place. "How do you get out?" 
You shake with nerves, at the thought of your escape plan. It's stupid, and it might not work and fuck everything up. Though it could work, and once again, fuck it all up. You push the insecurities down, knowing that he's trying to teach you a life lesson, even if you don't want to hear it. 
You twist your head, his grip not being tight in any way, and find his lips with ease, capturing them. Harwin falters, his arms opening and allowing you the opportunity to slip through and distance yourself from him. 
"That's how." You lick your lips, drawing the taste of him into your mouth. 
Harwin studies you with a deep look of something, mixed with unhinged anger and fear. He doesn't say anything, even as he quickly reaches for his sword, sheathing it against his hip and holding your eye for a moment longer. 
"One day," he croaks. "You're going to wake up and find yourself all alone." And with that, he turns his back on you. 
You watch him leave, shakily bringing the pads of your fingers to your lips, brushing them tenderly. You feel humiliated, shameful and disgusted. You also feel lighter, having finally answered your own question; his lips are soft and the taste of his breakfast still lingers. 
"I already am." You whisper to yourself, biting your finger to keep the tears at bay, the anger subsided.
The sun begins its descent from the highest point in the sky before you arrive back at your quarters, dismissing your maids in exchange for silence. You sit atop a lounge on the windowsill, breathing the fresher air from the high distance, ignoring the crestfallen ache in your heart. 
You knew something like this would happen, that Harwin would reject you and push you away. It's part of the reason why you hate him because you know you can't have him. Your father would never allow it, as his firstborn. He'd see to it that you marry a beneficial house, to further strengthen your sister's claim to the throne since you turned away from it. 
It doesn't make it any easier, or any less hard. You've spent almost every day in each other's presence, in either passing or company. You've known him since he was a boy. Uncoordinated and lanky, until he grew and filled out into the man he is today. 
"I don't know what you've done, but I'd steer clear from father," Rhaenyra bursts inside, speaking before seeing you. She calls for you when you don't respond, hoping she'll leave. 
She doesn't. 
Rhaenyra perches herself beside you, brushing a strand of your curly hair behind your ear. "What's happened?" 
"Ser Harwin told father of my nightly adventures." 
Rhaenyra frowns, gazing out the window. "It wasn't him, it was Ser Criston," you gape at her, shifting to lean your back against the wall, mirroring your sister. "He said as much when Ser Harwin confronted him about teaching you how to wield a sword, and the two go into it." 
"Shit," you murmur, leaning your head back. 
"I assume he came from seeing you, with how riled up he was. Never seen him so angry." 
She looks at you expectantly. "I kissed him." Her eyes widen. "To prove a point! He asked me how I'd escape from a headlock, and I kissed him, to distract him. It worked because he let go of me." 
"Makes sense," Rhaenyra nods, referring to his destructive path. "What was it like?" 
You glance at her, a small smile ghosting your lips. "It was only brief, but they are smooth, the complete opposite of him." 
You both giggle, dismissing the fact that you dishonoured not only yourself but Harwin. For a few minutes, you sit in silence, relishing in the company of your sister. These moments are rare, as of late, with her newfound responsibilities. 
"Are you going to listen to father?" 
You stare at her, the answer shining in your lilac eyes. "What do you think." 
-
Harwin surrounds himself with his fellow gold cloaks, in an attempt to enjoy his night off. They laugh and joke, spilling their alcohol and losing their hands on woman's bodies. 
He finishes his drink rather frustratedly, slamming it on the counter accidentally. He can't get the stupid fucking kiss out of his head, replaying the scene over and over. 
The way your body moulded to his own, your smaller frame engulfed and your erratic heart pounding against his arm. How he divulged himself and allowed his nose to brush your hair, inhaling your scent and losing his control. 
And fuck, when you leant up and kissed him, he couldn't help but respond. His restraint snapped at that moment, and if it weren't for you slipping out and distancing yourself-he doesn't want to imagine what he would have done.
From your first meeting, he knew he'd grow up to love you, your hot-headed temperament and stubborn wilfulness. Before he arrived in Kings Landing, his father had drilled into him how to act, how the royal family would act, yet there you stood, unaware of his presence as you yelled profanities into the sky. Not to mention, when you caught him gawking, asked him, the fuck are you looking at?
Your first words ever spoken to him. 
He sighs dramatically, rubbing his face and deciding to leave, knowing that drinking his problems away won't solve anything. The cool air nips at him through his woollen clothes, his dark cape swaying behind him as he makes his way back to the Keep. 
Approaching the gates, he hears a rustle, pausing to make sure his senses aren't clouded. "Fucking shit," Harwin immediately reaches for his sword, keeping his hand on the hilt whilst cautiously making his way closer to the whispered profanities. 
He watches you, straightening your clothes and checking to make sure the coast is clear before you walk off toward the city. He raises a brow at the choice of clothes; black pants and a shirt, with a jacket that is a size too big and a cloak to hide your white hair. Though nothing can cover the deep lilac of your eyes. 
He makes the hasty decision to follow you, keeping his distance yet being close enough to protect you should anything happen. Harwin smiles to himself, knowing this is the perfect opportunity to teach you a lesson. 
If it's so easy for him to sneak up behind you, imagine someone else, with impure intentions. 
He follows you for some time, a small part of him enjoying the look of awe and joy at the sights. Each night you leave, you try to explore new parts of the city, learning about your folk. Harwin must admit, not many royals would do so, preferring to stick to the comforts of the Keep.
The moon is high in the sky, shining down and revealing clear paths as you steer left and right, nowhere in particular yet taking note of each turn. You may be reckless, but you're not stupid. 
Harwin chooses this moment to make his move, observing the way you slip steadily down the passageway and pause at the sound of water lapping against the walls. He creeps out, covering your mouth and pulling you to him, stepping out of the light and into the darkness. 
You scream against his gloved hand, thrashing wildly and reaching for your concealed knife when, "and just like that princess, I've killed you. Or worse, knocked you out and used you for my pleasantries. How many times must I tell you until you get it through your thick skull that this isn't safe." 
You stop, your heart thundering and your adrenaline pumping. You close your eyes, subconsciously leaning further into Harwin. He hesitantly removes his hand, waiting for the explosion. 
"I could have killed you," you murmur, the weight of the blade heavy in your hand. You were prepared to stab him in the kidney. The thought of harming him destroys you. "I could have killed you, all because of your stupidity!" You whirl around, still touching him. 
"My stupidity?" He repeats. 
"Yes!" You fire, glaring up at him. "All to teach me a lesson, when I'm not stupid! Have you ever thought that maybe I just don't give a fuck? I know it's not safe, why do you think I sneak around and blend in." You pause, avoiding his gaze and staring at the Strong house crest on his chest. "This is the only time I feel normal, where my existence is insignificant." 
"Princess, no one asks to be born into their roles, to be born rich or poor," he starts, remembering all the times you spoke of wishing to be someone other than a princess, other than Viserys' firstborn. "But it's our duty to push through, to become what we're meant to be; Lord of Harrenhal, and Princess, of the seven kingdoms." 
Your emotions are high and twisted, a single tear slipping down your cheek as you squeeze your eyes shut to keep them at bay. "I didn't want to be a Queen, I sure as hell don't want to be a princess. I just want to be someone's wife, someone's mother. Someone's greatest love. Is that so hard?" 
You can't control the words, the heartfelt words that shatter Harwin. Suddenly, he understands you. He knows you. He says your name, softly, bringing his hand to your chin and tilting it up. Forcing you to look at him. 
Harwin wipes at your cheek with his thumb, tenderly caressing the flesh and relishing in the feel of you in his hand. So small and frail. So exposed. He opens his mouth to say more when the sound of metal armour clanging together draws his attention elsewhere. 
"Shit." He curses. 
He has nowhere to move to. The path spans over a hundred metres, with a wall on one side and the water's edge on the other. He couldn't even go to a corner. Solutions run through his mind, the sound of guards nearing causing him to do the first thing that pops up. 
"Sorry, Princess." He mumbles, pushing you against the concrete wall and covering the majority of your body with his, with no space left between you. Your brows furrow in confusion, question flashing in your eyes. 
Harwin does what he's always wanted to do: press his lips to yours. 
You squeak, given no time to prepare, your eyes wide in surprise. Only twelve hours ago, he was looking at you with utter hatred and disgust for you doing the same thing. The blade clatters against the ground.
The gold cloaks walk past without an issue, chuckling at the two of you but paying no mind. Harwin keeps his lips firmly against you, hating having to put you in this situation. 
When they become a dot in the distance, does he pull away, searching your eyes. "You kissed me back," you refer to earlier. That was your first kiss, this you never realised Harwin had responded. Your eyes harden, your lips pursing as you inhale as much air as possible before being your hand up and slapping him. His head snaps to the side at the sheer force, shock yet understandable written on his face. 
He doesn't respond, the words unable to form in his mouth. He swallows thickly, his jaw taut. He deserved that. He dares look at you again, his chest rising rapidly and the air crackling. 
You push off the wall, shaking your head in disbelief and attempting to round him. Your shoulder clashes with his when he turns to grab your upper arm, halting you. You glare up at him, opening your mouth to hurtle harsh words at him. Harwin moves first, pulling you back to him and claiming your lips. 
You're not even given a chance to respond before he pulls back, his face still close and his breath fanning your cheeks. He looks at you with hunger, lust and want. Realisation dawns on you; he's just as conflicted as you are. 
Your heart tugs you forward, your hands gripping his tunic and meeting him halfway. Harwin's hands cup the sides of your head. 
He devours you, his tongue slipping into your mouth with ease and his hands sliding to the base of your neck and head, titling you up to give more access. You whimper, grappling with his tunic as if he could suddenly move away from you.
He doesn't, shifting to have your back against the wall again, his apparent hard-on pressing into you. Your lungs ache with release, the lack of oxygen making you lightheaded yet desperate for more. 
Slowly and reluctantly, you part, his forehead resting on yours. Your lips are evidently swollen, the taste of him still lingering as he peppers you softly, not quite wanting to stop. 
"Harwin," you whisper, gliding your hands up to his cheeks, running the pads of your fingers over his beard and around his features. 
"I know." 
He could be executed for this, you could be disowned. But gods, does it feel right. Right to be in his hold, to be desired and kissed. You never want to stop. 
"Fuck I know." He repeats, lower. 
You nuzzle each other, refusing to leave the comfort of one another's warmth and touch, despite that nagging thought tugging in the back of your mind. Harwin murmurs that he needs to return you to the Keep, reluctantly standing straighter and removing himself from you.
You follow him in silence, sticking close and for once, not giving him grief. A step up from your usual nights out. 
You soon arrive, pausing before you part and he enters through the main gates whilst you scamper up your hidden passageway. "I know it wasn't you, who told my father." You start. "It was wrong of me to accuse you, and I hope one day you can forgive my insolence, and accept my apology." 
"Of course, Princess. It is known for spoilt children to lash out when they don't receive what they want," he begins to walk back with a teasing smirk. 
You narrow your eyes, watching him for a heartbeat longer and then turning to disappear yourself. The journey back to your quarters is always short, your footsteps light as you work to not attract attention to yourself. 
Heaving the door open, you stop dead in your tracks at the sight of your father standing in your room. "Father-"
"Where have you been?" He says in a low, deadly voice. 
"Taking a walk," 
"Don't lie to me!" Viserys yells. 
The room falls silent. You stare at one another, refusing to break contact. "What will it take for you to listen to me?" 
You think over your choice of words. Is it wise to mention that you wish to marry for love? That you wish he'd allow for you to leave this godforsaken city and be elsewhere, anywhere. Be with Harwin. 
"I wish-" you choke, refusing to look at him as you lay yourself bare. "I wish to marry of my own free will." 
Silence. More silence, his fury-ignited eyes never leaving you, even as you brave the idea to glance up. "No." 
"What-"
"You refused me in naming you heir, you will not refuse me in arranging a marriage for you. That, I can not accept." You gape at him, horror and sickness twisting deep within you. "Take this as your punishment for disobeying me." 
"You can't do this!" You yell at his retreated figure, anger surfacing and exploding. 
"Yes, I can." Viserys ends the argument, storming out of your quarters and forcibly shutting your door. You release a blood-curdling scream, frustration and betrayal gnawing at you. 
You grab the closest object, a cup, and hurtle it across the room. It clangs every time it meets the ground, the metal ringing dying down when it rolls to a stop. Your chest heaves, your jaw clenching and unclenching as you grasp for some control, to leash your emotions. 
You can't. 
You want to hurt your father, hurt him like he's hurt you. There's only one way you know how, leaving you to quickly exit your room through the hidden passageway, navigating down unfamiliar tunnels. 
When you were younger, you explored them all, yet there is only a small handful you use, mainly for your adventures outside the Keep. 
You basically float over the ground, your steps carefully placed despite your fast pace, eager to arrive at your destination. You reach the door, knocking quickly but firmly, making sure you don't arouse the Hand of the King, or his younger son. 
"Princess?" Harwin questions, glancing beyond you. "Is everything alright?" 
You say nothing, surging forward and claiming his lips. Harwin can only raise his brows in surprise, at both your forwardness and boldness, your hands resting on his chest to walk him backward, closing the door swiftly behind you. 
"What was that for?" He presses, distancing himself from you. He doesn't want to think of the penalty if you were found at this very moment. "Hmm?" 
You nibble your lip, holding his gaze even though you'd rather burn for the next words that come out. "I need you." 
The room falls silent, only the crackle of the fire is enough from keeping it dark and noiseless. Harwin studies you, not quite believing you. "You need me?" He approaches, agonisingly slow. "I find that very interesting, since only an hour or so ago, you were quite content." 
He stands before you, his fingers coming under your chin and leaning your head up. He observes you, enjoying watching you squirm. "The truth, now." He knows you're lying, or at the very least, not entirely honest. 
"I am telling the truth-" Harwin changes his grip, pulling you close to him by your chin. You almost collapse. He murmurs your name, the sound rolling down your back on waves. His eyes glint with a challenge, daring you to protest. Your neck heats up. "I could find little sleep, and my," you stop, wishing for the floor to open and swallow you hole. Harwin raises a brow. 
"My fingers were insufficient."
You don't realise, that the previous fire of wrath has simmered down, laying dormant. A different burn ravages your body. 
A wicked smile pulls at the corner of Harwin's mouth, his demeanour shifting. "Was that so hard?" His voice holding a certain husk, that you've never heard. 
His thumb brushes your smooth skin, braving the course of your lips. You release a small breath you didn't realise you were holding and your mouth parts. Harwin drags your bottom lip down, enjoying your compliance. 
"You need me to soothe that ache, Princess?" He tortures you, his mouth ghosting you yet inching up every time you try to close the gap. 
"Please," you're not sure what you're begging for, the words just tumbling out. You close your eyes in frustration, his breath fanning you. 
He finally relents, coming down on your mouth heavily. You barely have a moment to properly respond, his fingers tightening on your chin and his free hand coming to the base of your neck, keeping you steady as he takes your breath. 
"This is all you needed," he pulls a hairsbreadth away, his nose pressing onto the side of yours. "Someone to dominate you, leave you powerless." He realises, looking over your wanton state. 
Your hands fist his shirt, desperation clear on your face. He smiles softly, abruptly pulling back and creating a well-spaced distance from you. You feel as if a cold bucket of water has been poured over you, watching as he takes a seat by the fire. 
"Go to bed, Princess." 
You gape at him, fury bubbling to the surface. "Harwin," you start, taking a tentative step forward. 
"What you are asking for, is treason. The fucking death penalty." 
You flare up. "So is kissing me! What is going a little further?" 
"We are talking about your virtue." He raises his voice, momentarily forgetting about his whereabouts. Gods above, should someone come knocking. "That would be despicable of me, to take something that belongs to your husband." 
You frown, coming to stand before him, the sudden rush of heat inflicting goosebumps. "It should be mine to give away, not his to take." 
He looks up at you, his curls dishevelled and unruly. He wears a worn shirt, the casual appearance causing your stomach to twist. What you would give, to share days where you are laid bare with each other, to see the other side of Harwin, the improper side of him. 
"I trust you, Harwin," you begin, standing between his legs. "I want it to be you. No one else but you, who sees me, and touches me." You hoist a leg over his lap, moving to straddle his lap, your knees digging into the edge of the cushion. 
Instinctively, Harwin's hands come to your waist, keeping you situated. He battles with his morals, his body and heart reacting completely opposite to his mind. If you were a low-born, he'd have fucked you back in the passageway, without a care of onlookers. 
But your status halts him. 
You say his name again, caressing his jaw, your nails scraping through his beard. He doesn't break contact, his palms wandering along your side, moving with a mind of their own. It's plain to see, how much he wants you, how much you want each other. 
Painstakingly obvious. 
You swallow nervously, inching down to press a gentle kiss on the underside of his jaw, allowing time for him to push you off should he really not want to continue. You wouldn't ask that of him. His fingers flex into your flesh, his head angling up slightly. 
A ghost of a smirk plants itself over your lips, a sudden arrogance blooming at his reaction, at his heavier breath intake. You travel to his neck, feeling the urge to nibble lightly, Harwin rolling your hips into him reflexively. 
You gasp into his skin at the sudden pleasure, the seam of your pants pulling tightly over your clit. Harwin groans lowly, both at your mouth finding his sweet spot and your hips rutting into him. A sinister thought crosses his mind. 
Effortlessly he hoists you up, placing you over his thigh. You sit back in confusion, your initial reaction being that he wants to stop, until he speaks. "You say you use your fingers," your slightly wide eyes are enough of a confirmation. "Then use me. Get yourself off using me." 
Your lips part, your eyes searching his. He smiles reassuringly, dragging your hips over his thigh. "Take your pleasure, Princess." 
Your head drops into the crevice of his shoulder, an airy moan escaping you at the new sensation. Naturally, you begin to move on your own, a hand snaking up the other side of his head to thread through his curls, using him as leverage. 
Harwin jolts his leg up, the action bringing a new wave of pleasure through you. You whimper into his shoulder, your mind reminding you how improper this is, how a woman takes no pleasure from laying with a man yet your body ignores every lesson you've ever been taught. 
A low pressure builds, your thighs starting to shake and your movements quickening. Harwin makes the split decision to help, driving your hips down and over, the new motion brings you to your release. 
You pant against him, squeezing your eyes shut as he continues to move you gently, drawing your orgasm out. Slowly he comes to a stop, allowing you a moment to really comprehend what's happening before he shifts in a way that he can plant a kiss on your head.
"Was that good?" 
You nod, a familiar heat rising in your cheeks. Gods that felt fucking magical, and he barely did anything. You can only imagine how his cock will feel. 
He chuckles lightly, coaxing you to sit back and reveal your pretty face. He drags the backs of his fingers down your cheek, memorising each fine detail. Deep down, a small part of him fears this will be the last he'll ever see of it. 
In one movement, Harwin stands and gingerly lowers you onto the fur rug in front of the fire, the flames dancing dangerously close. He knows how much you love the heat. 
You gaze up at him, allowing him the opportunity to worship you. His large hands slip under your shirt, dragging the material as he roams every inch of your side. You arch your back and raise your arms, allowing easier access to glide the shirt off. 
Goosebumps erupt under his hardened callouses, his fingers interlocking with yours once he moves up your arms and allows the shirt to bunch above your head. "Keep them here," he murmurs, capturing your lips. 
You figure he means your hands, nodding against his mouth. His tongue invades your mouth, his breath becoming your own and his fingers flexing at the sheer taste of you. You have no idea how much power you wield over him. 
His hands begin their descent, grazing your flesh and finding solace on your breasts, his mouth following suit. You grab onto the edge of the fur rug, gripping it firmly. 
His tongue flicks your erect nipple, his teeth meeting the tender flesh. He nips and sucks around the area, a hand paying attention to your other breast, careful to administer equally. You gasp and writhe under him, unaware that he could bring you any pleasure from this. 
Eventually, he moves on, stopping at your waistline. He flickers up to you, a silent ask of permission in his eyes. You give an airy yes, anticipation gnawing at you. Harwin pulls your pants and undergarment in one motion, the cool air causing you to jump. 
He laughs softly, grinning at your nakedness, at the way your skin glows under the firelight. Right now, you're all his, his to take, to touch and love. His mind captures this moment, storing it away for a time when he plans on replaying it over and over. 
"How do you feel, Princess, knowing you're about to be my dessert." 
Your eyes brows raise at the comment, unsure of his hidden innuendo. A dark part of Harwin relishes in the fact that it's him, that gets to taint you. That he's the one to open the gates to a whole new world of pleasure. He plans on ruining you for any other man. 
"What are you doing?" You ask more in curiousness than fear. Of all your lessons, the Septas never mentioned a man putting his head between your legs. 
"I'm dining on my Princess, is that alright with you?" A dark glint shines in his eyes from between your thighs, his beard grazing your soft flesh. You whimper, biting your lip and giving him the go-ahead. 
You suck in a deep breath at the first contact of his tongue, your body seizing. Fuck. You throw your head back in a silent moan, Harwin's mouth ravaging you. His tongue explores your folds and clit, emitting all pitches of sounds from you. 
Suddenly his hands snake around your thighs and grip you thoroughly, spreading them further around his head and giving him easier access. You squeal at the feeling of his tongue entering you, pumping in and out. 
"Harwin," your knuckles have since turned white. 
This is a high you never thought you could experience, the intensity hitting you like a wave. The combination of his tongue, his lips and his beard is enough to drive you over. Of course, Harwin intends for you to be fully prepared, momentarily coming up to gauge your reaction as he pushes a finger into you. 
You release a deep groan at the intrusion, the pleasure brewing. He takes his time, moving in and out of you, slowly adding a second finger at the same time his thumb rubs your clit. 
You squeeze your eyes shut, unable to do anything but writhe under his hand. Gods you wish you could put your arms down and grab him, show him how good he's making you feel. Harwin spreads his fingers carefully, intently studying your reaction. He wants you prepped as best as possible, wanting your first-time pain-free. 
With all these motions and pleasantries you fall over the edge, calling out his name. Harwin continues his movements for a second longer before removing his hand, allowing you to come down from your high. 
He skims over you, capturing your lips and emptying your lungs. You instantly wrap your arms around him, eager to keep him close. He grinds himself into you, allowing you a moment to feel how hard he is. 
You lick your lips whilst you watch him undress, tossing his clothes somewhere before diving straight back down to you. You barely get a chance to admire his hard-earned body, instead running your fingers deep into his back muscles. 
"Give me your hand," he guides it down, wrapping it firmly around his cock. You suppress a giggle at his involuntarily deep groan. "This is what you do to me," he says your name. "This, and so much more. You have no idea the kind of control that's in your favour." 
You can't help but smirk. You leave your hand wrapped around him, a little unsure of what to do. "You take the lead, whenever you're ready." Oh. He means for you to put him in. 
You glance down, hesitantly gliding to the tip, drawing it closer. "Can you help?" You have no fucking idea what you're doing. 
His hand envelops your own, guiding it to you and nudging your opening. You suck in a deep breath, flickering up to his own deep blue eyes. He leaves you to your own devices, gritting his teeth at every inch. 
The feeling is unlike anything you've ever experienced. For the time being, it's uncomfortable and unnatural, your body's initial reaction to close your legs and get him out of you. But you don't, removing your hand and granting Harwin the opportunity to ease in. 
"Harwin." You grunt, clawing at his shoulders. 
"You're doing so well, taking me so well." He praises, finally stopping once he's filled you. As time passes, your body begins to relax, climatizing to having his cock stretch you open. 
"Move, please move." You strain, wanting this first part to be over with. 
He does, slowly rocking out and in, the slight pain shifting to pleasure, your deep breaths becoming short. You have no idea what to do besides lay here, wrapped around Harwin as he thrusts into you, restraining himself from fucking you into the rug. 
That will be for later. 
For now, he intends on showing you a softer, gentler side of him, one where he tenderly brings you to release.
He fists the fur beside your head, his other hand on your hip as he steadily moves within you, your back arching slightly when he reaches parts of you, you never thought he'd reach. 
You bring a hand to his face, brushing a part of his curls back and revealing his prominent features, trying desperately to hold contact. 
He uses the hold on your hip as leverage, lifting your hips ever so little when he ruts into you, eliciting all frequencies of sounds from you. Your walls begin to clench around him, alerting him of your impending orgasm. 
Slipping his hand over, Harwin teases your clit, eager to really please you. With this being your first time, your climax quite quickly, Harwin's name falling from your lips. 
You gasp at his sudden eviction, a small part of you wondering if that was it. Harwin soon answers, scooping you up off the ground and planting you beside the fire, your front pressing against the wall. Thankfully the fire leaves it warm. 
"Harwin, what are you-oh fuck!" You cry out at his sudden intrusion, entering from behind. 
Harwin leaves no space between you, your legs spread to give him better access and a hand weaving through your hair and pulling your head to the side. "You wanted this, Princess, and you'll take it." He grunts into your ear, his thrusts hitting sharply. "But don't worry, you'll find yourself soon enjoying it." 
You almost flutter around him, the words sinking in and leaving you in a hot and bothered state. His guttural voice mixed with those cold, demeaning words. 
In a way, he's not wrong, the new position causing all sorts of pleasures to tremble through your body; your nipples grazing the stone, his cock hammering into you and his dominant hands manoeuvring you like a whore. 
You snake an arm around, cupping the back of his head, keeping him close. With your cheek melted into the stone wall, his breath moulds with your own, your lips dangerously near, yet not touching. You close your eyes, enjoying the brutal fucking and not to mention, Harwin's own grunting and groaning. 
It brings you joy to know that he finds great pleasure in you. 
"You have no idea what you've just done, allowing me the honour to be the first to have my way with you. It wasn't a smart move Princess because I intend to ruin you," it's as though his own words spur him on, harshly rutting into you and carving you into the wall. You can do nothing but take it, and endure his treatment. 
You wouldn't have it any other way.
"I intend on breaking you in to my cock, destroying all hope for you to ever enjoy someone else." He lowers his voice almost menacingly. "No one will ever fuck you like I am." 
You attempt a nod, knowing he's correct. As fucked up as it seems, you know that only Harwin can bring you to these highs. He's the only one you'll ever allow to treat you this way. Like an object, a vacant hole. 
You know your close, your legs beginning to shake and your breath quickening. "Harwin, please," you whimper, once again not entirely sure what you're pleading for. 
Whatever it is, you know he can grant it. 
Somehow he hits a deeper angle, leaving you to cry out clenching around him. He falters for a second, close to spilling over himself. He so desperately wants to, but he's holding out. With the new tempo, you crumble, spilling around Harwin as he continues to thrust into you. 
You whine against him, the overwhelming pleasure causing tears to prick in the corners of your eyes. He doesn't stop, only slowing as he whirls you around, picking you up by your thighs and clamping them to his waist. 
"Gods," you moan airily, his cock ramming against your sensitive walls. 
"The seven won't help you here." He muses, observing your expressions. 
Amazingly enough, Harwin increases his tempo, similar to before. You choke, pawing at his chest. "Harwin I can't," 
"Yes you can, hey," he cups your jaw, forcing you to open your eyes and look at him. "One more, be a good girl and give me one more, you can do it." 
You bite your lip at the pain beginning to throb, your body exhausted and to be honest, your pussy used. His dark eyes watch you, a hand coming down to press against your clit, helping in relieve that pressure building once again. 
He groans your name, his other hand moving to brace against the skirting around the fireplace. With his strength and subconscious force, he breaks the corner of it. You barely react to the stone crumbling at his feet, more focused on climaxing for a third and final time. 
He swallows your scream, the rush of you around him enough to bring him over, spilling his seed deep. You lean your head back, your chest heaving and no doubt your back scratched. You feel content, Harwin slumping into your shoulder, nuzzling your flesh. 
"I never imagined it would feel like that," you say more to yourself, your fingers threading through his sweaty curls. 
Harwin lifts his head. "It's never like that, Princess." 
-
The wild winds blast through your hair, your dragon's head blocking the majority from hitting you smack bang on your chest. At this height, the force is unimaginable. 
You slowly begin your descent, dreading the moment you land and go back to reality, your cruel reality. In these last few months, you were made to follow your sister during her tour, allowing the lords to put themselves forward for your hand, alongside Rhaenyra. 
You scowled the entire time. A cold, blank sheet was over your face, your eyes narrowed and dark. You could burn your father for the agony he's put you through, refusing your one ask of him. He's strained his relationship with you. 
As more and more days pass, you ponder the thought of running away, denouncing your blood and flying off into the distance, far from this heartache. 
You know it's foolish, that you must uphold your duty, but fuck duty. 
Your dragon lands smoothly, his large frame dwarfing you once you climb down, your hand brushing against his scales and his head. He growls softly, leaning into your palm and hoping to draw this time out. He's missed you, much like the dark-haired knight that only just received word of your arrival. 
You and your sister returned in the night, and since dawn you've been up in the skies, forgetting the situation at hand for a while longer. 
You gesture for the dragon keepers to guide your dragon back into his nest, turning swiftly and making your way up to the Keep. Eyes watch you, studying you with every step. Since your last conversation with your father, you've turned into a cold little bitch. 
It's the only way you know to protect yourself. 
Your steel gaze burns through anyone who makes contact, challenging them to speak their mind. You know of the rumours that spread, how you've turned down every suitor, how your attitude has changed and you are no longer the nice Princess. 
You don't notice the deep blue eyes following your every move through the courtyard, studying your behaviour. A part of you wonders how your first interaction would be, having not spoken a word to him since that night.
After he helped you dress, you snuck back into your room riddled with guilt. Suppose you came to your senses, realising exactly what you'd just done. But somewhere, you didn't care, you still don't. The next day you prepared yourself to send him away, should he come looking, but he never did. 
And then you left, following your sister around Westeros. 
"Have you seen him?" Rhaenyra sidles up to you, accompanying you to your quarters where you must prepare for the large feast. Your father has organised a large gathering where he can personally meet both of your suitors. 
"No." You answer plainly. 
You confessed the incident to Rhaenyra, trusting her to keep it to herself. She has and is more excited for the two of you to speak than you are. 
"We should have you dressed your best tonight, show him what he's had a taste of, and what he's no doubt missing." 
You roll your eyes, looping an arm through hers. She's been your rock through the whole ideal with your father, understanding both sides, yet gravitating towards yours. 
Rhaenyra takes the opportunity to order your ladies as she sees fit, demanding your hair be styled up to accentuate your chest and collarbone, as the dress she picks is an off-the-shoulder. The black and red material falls to the floor, the sleeves being a cape, tying to the bodice only at the shoulder and leaving your arms to be either hidden or shown. 
The dress plunges down your breasts, opting for a revealing look, courtesy of Rhaenyra. She finishes it off with a dragon-like necklace, alluding to the animal protecting your neck. Throughout the design, scales to represent your house has been embroidered, making it one of a kind. 
Your sister's dress is similar, in the revealing sense. The both of you are definitely pushing your father's buttons, and you have no care. 
The hours past by swiftly, and soon it's time to present yourselves. You walk side by side to the great hall, an anxious tug pulling within your stomach. You can't help but wonder how the evening will play out, and just what will happen with Harwin. 
The great doors swing open, Rhaenyra being introduced first as she's the heir, and you second. Your heart rate quickens with each step, hundreds of eyes staring. You debate whether to search for his, your pace faltering as you connect. 
Gods be fucking damned, he looks divine. 
Your mouth dries at his black attire, at his curls being pulled back and revealing his defined features. It seems he's had a similar thought, dressing his best. 
So many words portray through your eyes, so many thoughts and emotions. His jaw flexes as you draw near, his seat being close to the high table. The rest of the room fades, his gaze agonisingly slowly moving down your body, images of your naked figure coming to mind. 
He pauses at your breasts, subconsciously moistening his lips before he flickers up to your face. He inhales sharply. These past months have done you justice, or you've simply become a woman since he had his share of you. 
Your exchange doesn't go unnoticed, by both of your fathers. 
Rounding the high table, you opt to take your seat, unlike Rhaenyra who greets Viserys before joining you. Neither of you bothered for Alicent, who flares daggers at you in particular. She normally leaves you alone, yet since the altercation with your father, she guns for the both of you. 
You keep silent through the speech, given by your father, focusing on the detail of the cloth before you. A burning sensation spreads through you, almost like a sixth sense, sensing a pair of eyes boring into your skull. 
You clench your jaw, preparing to scare them off when you pause. It's Harwin, unable to keep his eyes off you. Your skin heats up, your thighs pressing together. Fuck, the effect he has on you. 
Viserys takes his seat, the people either beginning to eat or taking to the dance floor, music filling the air. You decide to eat, keeping your attention locked on your plate, desperate to finish it before you go looking for Harwin. You want answers, and one way or another you'll get them. 
At some stage a young lordling braves the high table, asking for your hand. You pause your chewing, your eyes venomous. "As you can see, my lord, I have yet to finish my meal," you gesture to the full plate. 
The boy's cheeks redden, and quickly he excuses himself.  You scoff, resuming your meal with your eyes scouring the hall. You watch the people dance, eventually ditching your plate and leaning back in your chair, your eyes narrowing at Harwin's empty place beside his brother.
You find him amongst the crowd, his attention on a young maiden. Or so you thought, until his gaze flickers up to you, before averting again.
He wants to play that game.
Rising, you round the high table and descend the small flight of stairs, accepting the first person to offer a dance and joining everyone else. At first, you attempt to pay attention to your partner, your bodies moving in partial sync across the floor.
It's not until you spin outward, that you notice Harwin, now with a different girl.
With each movement, you glance over at him, a shadow of annoyance covering you as you realise he refuses to acknowledge you.
You inhale deeply, deciding to ignore your heart's biggest ache and try to enjoy your time without him. You switch partners, losing sight of Harwin as the night progresses. You've lost sense of yourself, spinning and moving to the flow of the music, changing partners every so often that you have no idea who each one is. Your cheeks are warm, your eyes alight. You haven't had this much fun in a while, the suitors flocking to you for a chance to dance. 
Your current partner twirls you around, his grip firm and unwavering. For the first time, he matches you, each movement sturdy and confidence clear in his steps. He makes for a great dance partner. You can't help but laugh as he draws you to him, only to raise his arm over your head and redirect you. 
His hand slips from yours, signalling a partner change, and you spin to stop in someone's chest. You instinctively brace yourself on his chest, an apology on your lips as you glance up. "Ser Harwin," you breathe his name. 
"Princess," he curtly acknowledges. 
His chest tightens at your appearance, wide and excited eyes, wisps of hair falling from their place and framing your face. Not to mention, your delicate hands still pressed to him, leaving only a splinter of a gap between you. 
You follow his gaze, realisation dawning. You go to remove yourself from him, when his own hands cover yours, gently plucking them off his chest. You expect him to let go, throw you aside and move on, but he doesn't. 
Harwin grasps your hands, leading you into the next dance. You follow him, lost within the depths of his blue eyes, so many words threatening to tumble out. You move fluently, matching his pace. 
"Harwin," you say lowly, unsure of how to proceed. 
"Don't." Your brows furrow, your chests pressing together as you both move in. "Just don't say anything." 
You scoff. "You expect us to dance in silence?" He says nothing, despite the electricity sparking around you. "I've been gone for months and this is how treat me?" 
"What do you want me to say?" He grits. 
"Anything!" You say a little loudly, breaking contact to stare at his house emblem stitched to his chest. You sigh, closing your eyes. "Why didn't you come to see me?" 
"My apologies, Princess, I didn't realise I was your lap dog." 
You snap up to him. Fire burns within your hard stare. "What is your problem? Why are you like this?" 
He raises an eyebrow, extending you away from his body, only to snap you back to him. You collide with his chest harshly, flashbacks of that night coming to your forefront. Reminders of how easily he dominates you. 
"Are you so dense, Princess, that you can't see your actions have consequences." 
You gape at him, matching his hard levelled glare. "Careful Ser, anyone else and I'd have their head." Normally, Harwin would never dare speak so freely, yet at this moment the mere presence of you sets him alight. He grunts in response to your warning. 
You squeeze your eyes shut, inhaling deeply to keep the dragon at bay. The last thing anyone needs is for you to boil over and explode. "What actions are you speaking of?" 
You honestly have no idea what he's referring to. "Ahh, so you're ignorant as well. Tell me again why you came to me that night, why you begged," 
"I did not beg!" You almost growl. Fuck he makes you angry, almost rivalling your father at this moment. Your veins simmer, your stomach twisting in rage. "I told you why-" 
"I don't believe you." Harwin cuts you off. He lowers his face, so close to your own. His breath bares down on you, his lips dangerously near, yet Harwin's movements are calculated. There's no warmth in his eyes. "I think someone got angry at daddy, and decided to get back at him using me." 
You freeze. You never expected him to say that, to call you out. "Harwin," you start, desperation filling you. You need to explain yourself, to make him understand. 
Betrayal flashes across him, his back straightening. "Good evening, princess." He spits out your title, removing himself from you entirely. 
"Harwin," you choke, reaching for him when a figure steps in front of you. You barely give the man a glance before you intend on following the knight. 
"If I may, Princess?" 
You ignore the man offering his hand for a dance, staring off at Harwin as he makes his way through the crowd and exits the hall. Distress floods you, your body shaking as you fight the urge to heave. 
You feel sick. 
"Sister, are you alright?" Rhaenyra notices, immediately coming to your side. You can't say anything, darting between her and where Harwin just left. She nods in understanding. "Go, I'll tell father you're feeling ill."
You squeeze her hand gratefully, before making your way toward a different exit, with a plan of cutting him off. You have vague ideas of where he would go. With everyone in the hall, it leaves the corridors vacant. 
Picking your dress up at the knees, you pick up a run, your shoes hitting the floor lightly as you intend on making minimal noise. Blood roars in your ears, your heart pumping erratically.
You round corners, desperate to slip out of the Keep before anyone realises. Finally, you enter the gardens, stopping when you spot Harwin storming his way toward you, unaware of your presence. 
You step into his view, flinching as he stops dead in his tracks. He goes to speak, but you beat him to it. "I am to speak, and you are going to listen." You raise a finger, keeping him rooted whilst you close the distance. 
You stand dangerously close, your chest heaving and your hair falling to your shoulders. "Yes, I came to you because I was furious because I knew that it'd destroy my father much as he'd done to me. He asked what it would take to contain me, and I voiced a marriage of my own free will. He refused." Harwin stands rigid, his fingers flexing at his sides. "But I came to you-"
"Because you knew I'd do it. You took advantage of my affections for you, you used me!" Harwin raises his voice, his emotions controlling him. You deny it, trying to explain yourself when he talks over you. "You have no idea how I felt the next morning when my own gold cloaks told me that the King was to select your hand. You shattered me," you close your eyes at the sound of your name leaving his lips with such pain, tears building. 
"Yet you have such a fucking hold on me that I stupidly offered my hand." 
Your eyes fly open, meeting his own despite the darkness. The bright moon shines down, lighting the area as best as possible. "You," you drawl, comprehending his words. 
"Yes, and I had to endure your father and his court's laughter." 
"But your his Hands son-first born son! Heir to Harrenhal!" 
He chuckles darkly. "Exactly, all I have to offer you is a half-burnt castle, courtesy of your ancestors." 
You can't fathom that your father didn't even consider Harwin, that he belittled him. He has no idea what he's done. 
"Harwin," he shivers. "I'm sorry you had to deal with that. What my father did is cruel," 
"A trait that runs in the family." 
A tear slides down your cheek, defeat seeping in. It seems no matter what you say, Harwin refuses to hear. After a heartbeat of silence, Harwin moves to round you, pausing at your palm coming into contact with his chest. The feel of him sends a shiver down your spine. 
Harwin slides your hand off as if you've burnt him, continuing on his path. An intense wave of pain surges through you, obliterating every part of you without remorse. Your chin trembles, your mind steaming at you to stop him, to fuck the protocols and policies. 
You open your mouth to call out, to tell him the truth but it falls short in your throat, lodged well. You fear for what happens when you lay yourself bare, what he'll say and do. 
"I'm in love with you." 
Harwin completely seizes, as if he was close to falling off a cliff. 
"I came to you, because deep down I knew my father would never approve, especially of us marrying." With each word Harwin approaches you, his body weightless. "So I decided that before I became caged and forced into a dull marriage, that I'd take control and choose who takes my virtue. That I'd lay with the man that I love, even if it were for a night." 
Harwin stands directly behind you, his front pressing against your back, his breath on your neck. "If you're lying to me," 
You turn to face him. "You think I'd allow anyone to treat me like a whore?" 
A flicker of understanding passes between you. How he manoeuvred you, how he controlled you like a puppet and fucked you against the wall without mercy. 
"What do you know of being a whore?" 
You tilt your head, standing on your toes to brush his cheek. "I know I'd let you do whatever you want, so long as it pleases you." 
Harwin inhales sharply, his body itching for you. He murmurs your name, his voice trembling and his restraint slipping. He allows his fingers to loosely hang off your hips, drawing you closer. 
Your mouth ghosts his, the temptation seeping in. You move your arms to his neck, threading your hands through his hair. Harwin groans, his hooded eyes burning through you, his control snapping. 
He captures your lips, his grip on you tightening and his palms travelling every inch of your back, one of them ending up in your hair, the other on your neck. You whimper softly, Harwin using the opportunity to slip in his tongue and ravage you properly. 
You're powerless against him, the lack of oxygen having its effect on your brain. You feel him move you backward, directing you through the garden until you stand flush to a wall, out of sight. Harwin found this hidden spot behind the bushes when he was a young lad, oft venturing here as he grew older to escape his reality. 
He skims down the skirt of your dress, lifting it to cup your pussy. You whine, pulling apart to lean your head into the brick. Harwin smirks at your state, his palm moving in circular motions. 
"Your drenched Princess. How long have you been like this?" He taunts you. 
"Since I laid eyes on you," you answer airily.
Harwin hums in satisfaction, removing your undergarment and tapping the inside of your thigh to signal you step out of it. A chill shudders down your spine in realisation; Harwin plans on having you against this wall, where anyone could easily happen upon you. 
"Hold this," he refers to your skirts, bunching the front into your stomach. You do as he says, biting your lip as he works to remove himself. 
Harwin pauses, his cock hard and throbbing in his hand. "Tell me you want this," he rasps.
"I want you to fuck me." 
A cold smile tugs at his lips, "as my princess commands." 
He nudges into you, giving you a moment before he slides all the way in. You tense, having only had him months ago and nothing since. It doesn't exactly hurt, it feels uncomfortable, like he should be there but he is. 
You grapple with his shoulders, hissing once he reaches the hilt, filling you with every inch of him that you can take. He shudders at your walls clenching around him. 
Slowly he eases out and in, working you to a steady rhythm as to make sure he won't hurt you, that you've accustomed to him. You have. 
He slams his hand onto the wall beside your head at the same time his hips rut into you. Your mouth opens in a silent groan, your forehead pressing against Harwin's as he intends to watch you. 
Each thrust is intentional, his cock hitting as deep as possible and his slow but hard movements driving you crazy. Your whimpers and small sounds spur him on, a hand on your hip to help leverage him into you. 
Though he's fucked you before, you still have no idea what to do, not wanting to just stand here and take his brutal pace. You remember how it felt to have your legs around his waist, how he was able to hit deep angles and completely fill you. 
Lifting a leg up, you hook your ankle around his waist, Harwin instantly shifting. His hand glides down to your thigh, keeping it locked to him and his hips drive deeper into you. 
You begin to feel that burn within your abdomen, brewing with each thrust, especially as he switches to almost completely vacating you before he hits home. You cry out, Harwin instantly covering your mouth. 
"Quiet Princess, otherwise this ends very quickly." Harwin grunts, referring to someone potentially finding you. 
You attempt to nod. He doesn't exactly trust your control, keeping his palm where it is as he continues to piston out of you, his heavy pants signalling how close he's getting. 
You dig your heel into his lower back, so close to falling over the edge, desperate for him to follow. Harwin glides his hand from your thigh to your clit, paying particular attention to the bundle of nerves and the added sensation being enough for you to climax. 
Your moan is muffled, Harwin's hips faltering at the feeling of you gushing around him. His own restraint slips, his cock ramming into you one last time, his seed spilling. His head falls to your shoulder, his hand slipping from your mouth to rest on the side of your head. 
Your chest heaves, a slight sense of fatigue threatening to wash over you. "I hate you, with every fibre of my being." He whispers into your skin, his lips grazing your exposed collarbone. 
"I know." You reply, your mouth dry as you run a caressing hand over his hair. You don't know what to do from this point onward, whether you and Harwin go your separate ways or you fight for him. 
It ultimately falls on him.
"I would burn this fucking city to the ground for you," you murmur, wanting him to comprehend just how much he plagues you, how much he wields you, how nothing else matters in this lifetime but him. Hesitantly, Harwin lifts his head, unprepared for the serious glint in your eye. "Don't give up on me, not yet."
"Then don't leave me." 
Your lilac eyes shine with fire and determination. "Never. I love you too much," he looks away, releasing a heavy breath as though he doesn't believe you. "Hey," you grab his face, forcing him to meet your stare. "I have loved you, since I was a girl. You, are why I hate my status. If I were a lower-born daughter, we could have wed a long time ago, without the burden of our duties." 
"Show me," his words are barely audible, but you catch them. Show me.
Steadily you lower your leg from his waist, ignoring the slight irritation from your hips and sudden blood flow. His soft cock slips from you, hanging limp. Pushing down the nerves that erupt along your body, you sink to your knees, glancing up at him through your lashes. 
A flicker of surprise passes over Harwin. He didn't exactly mean this. Though he'd be stupid to pass up the opportunity. 
"You're the only man I'll get on my knees for," you quip, tentatively wrapping your fingers around his cock. 
Harwin hisses at the contact, his hand bracing himself against the wall. You allow instinct to take over, cautiously pumping him, studying Harwin's reactions. His lips part, his breath becoming heavy with each glide, his cock hardening under your touch. 
"Am I doing it right?" You ask nervously, unsure of what else you could be doing to him. 
"Princess," he grits, his fingers curling into a fist above you. "You keep that up and I won't be able to last." 
Your cheeks flare at his comment, your thumb brushing over his inflamed head. Harwin grunts under your ministrations, his other hand flexing as he withholds the urge to grip your hair. 
"Can you teach me, how to use my mouth?" 
Harwin's eyes fly open, instantly finding your own. "You don't have to, what your doing is just fine." 
"But I want to," you pause your movements, looking up at him expectantly. "Either teach me or I'll learn myself." 
His eyebrows rise to his hairline. "You are a determined thing, aren't you?" You scowl, gently tightening your grip on him. "Alright alright," he repeats, his body stiffening. "Put it in, and for the love of the seven, don't use your teeth." 
A wicked grin spreads across your face, setting Harwin on edge as you take him into your mouth, inwardly cringing for a moment. Harwin shudders, his hip's reflexively jutting forward. 
"Just," he pants, at the mere feeling of his cock inhabiting your mouth. "Move like you were before, and use your tongue." 
Your brows furrow slightly, hesitantly gliding along his cock and back down, dragging your tongue on his underside. He groans, his hand coming to your hair and threading it. How he so desperately wishes to face fuck you, but he won't. Not until you're his. 
You bob your head, following Harwin's instructions as he guides you to bring him to a climax, his leverage on your head allowing him to gingerly rut his hips into you. "Good girl," he murmurs, his eyes closing in pleasure. 
An idea flickers, your tongue swirling around his swollen head and your hand wrapping around the base of him, a small smirk threatening to spread as Harwin stammers. 
You feel powerful, knowing that your mere mouth can bring Harwin to this state, his moral restraint close to breaking like the chains kept around your dragon. 
Harwin calls your name, his cock twitching in your mouth. He's close, dangerously close and he fears that if you don't stop, he won't pull out in time. You remember how he felt you near your climax the night he disappeared between your thighs, sucking gently on your clit to bring you over. 
You wonder if the same applies to him. 
You move to his tip, gently sucking. Harwin cries out at the unexpected sensation, forcing his hips forward and ultimately thrusting his cock further into your mouth as he shatters. 
You squeak, his seed filling your mouth and slipping down your throat. You can't help but cringe at the taste, pulling off him to wipe your mouth. 
Slowly raising, you observe Harwin's state, as he comes down from his high. He releases a heavy breath, his senses clearing. A sense of pride runs through you, for being able to please him as he did to you. 
Being with a man, is not at all what the Septas told you. 
Harwin grabs the underside of your jaw, pulling you up to him. You fist his jacket, a small moan escaping you when his tongue slips in. He doesn't care that he can taste himself. 
He steals your breath, your lungs aching and that familiar burn searing through your abdomen. He reluctantly pulls back, his forehead leaning on yours, his lips feathering you, refusing to completely stop. 
"Harwin," you whisper, your hands sliding to his neck, playing aimlessly with his loose curls. "What are our next moves?" 
"Hmm?" He hums absentmindedly, too lost in the feeling of your cheek against his. He nuzzles you, an act of intimacy that even fucking you couldn't compare to. 
You chuckle, deciding to leave it and enjoy the moment, as much as the two of you should plan out the next steps. 
"You're mine," he says lowly, his gravelly voice sending chills down your spine. "And I'm yours." 
You nod, a smile gracing your lips. "You've ruined me for anyone else."
Tag List: @iwillboilyourteeth @sageshorrorblog @gibbsgirl7 @noisyinfluencerstrawberry @missusnora @jdm-traash @happynerdtale @westeros-needs-me @killthedarkthoughts @stardustdragon9 @my-watch-begins @ietss @znanaworm @fulla02
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adventuringblind · 3 months
Text
A Little Lost
Liam Lawson x Reader x Oscar Piastri x Logan Sargeant
Genre: fluff and hurt/comfort
Summary: With her ADHD driving her mind into a whirlwind, she ends up slipping in public and unable to find the one person she needs. Luckily Oscar and Logan are there to help.
Warnings: non-sexual age play, agere/age-regression, panic attacks, implied trauma, non-sexual use of daddy
Notes: I needed this for myself, honestly!! I hope the requester finds comfort in it like I did!
Side note: age-regression is NOT a kink. If you're going to request it, please don't make it a smut request. It gives ya girl mixed signals. AGEPLAY is a kink and has dd/lg dynamics. Please remember this when requesting... I'm begging T_T
Masterlist // Request Form // My Website // buy me a Ko-Fi
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Everything is overwhelming at the moment. He thoughts are running in a million different directions. The noise and bustle of the paddock is pulling Her every which way.
She needs Liam. Without a shadow of a doubt, she needs him right this second.
Her mental state is dancing between headspaces. Her little self is attempting to break free of the confines she's put the girl in. To young and to alone to be out in this environment.
The alphatauri garage feels so far away. It's an endless walk she's been attempting to make for what feels like hours now. Liam, she just needs to get to him.
Panic rises every time someone bumps into her. She squeaks out a sorry, only to be met with annoyed grunts. She needs her daddy to make it better. No - Liam - she needs Liam.
The catalyst is someone shoving her away and complaining that she should pay more attention. She is paying attention. Her brain just has thirty tabs open, three of them have commercials playing, another is driving her senses wild, and where the heck is her da- Liam?!
The shove sends her tumbling to the ground. Her elbow hits the hard ground on impact. It's bleeding, and she's officially offline.
Her little self takes over, tears welling in her eyes as she hides around the corner and tugs at her hair. A desperate attempt to settle the whirlwind of her thoughts.
She needs her daddy.
♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡
Logan and Oscar are animatedly chatting about the race as they walk through the dwindling crowd. Liam had texted about a longer debrief and had asked them to check up on his girlfriend since she wasn't answering her phone.
They'd been an item the last couple of years like Oscar and Logan have. It's an interesting and often tense dynamic. The four of them are all extremely close, but neither of the couples have openly talked about any kind of open relationship.
Oscar and Logan have. It's often a source of interesting fantasies and warm fuzzy feelings. They say nothing, though. Scared of losing their closest friends in the pursuit of something mildly taboo still.
Logan is lost in his thoughts when Oscar stops suddenly. He hushes him and listens intently. It's then that Logan catches the muffled sobs.
They take off in the direction of the crying. Neither of them are ones to let somebody suffer when they can help it.
They turn the corner, and there sits their original target. She curled up with hair in every direction, and her fingers rake through it in a violent manner.
Logan approaches her like she's a wounded animal. He's not at all hurt when she curls farther into her corner.
"Osc, we're gonna need to call Liam."
"Already on it!"
She perks up at hearing Liam's name. Eyes wide and teary, but at least she doesn't look scared of the Logan for the moment. "Daddy? Are callin' daddy?"
Oh. Oh.
She's - how did they put it? - regressed, in age. They talked about it in passing but never elaborated. Logan and Oscar had never bothered to look into it. They were protective over it and they wanted to respect that.
He's regretting that decision just a tad now. He might be more prepared on what to do if he'd bothered to figure out what it is that happens to her.
The obvious thing is that she's vulnerable and scared. "Yeah, we're calling him." He smiles warmly at her. "Can you tell me what happened? Why you're so sad?" He keeps his tone calm to hopefully ease her into a less anxious state.
She untucks herself and shows Logan her red and bleeding elbow. "Was pushed."
It's not a terrible scrape, not one to be worried about, but it is getting on all her clothes. He'll have to ask about the pushing later.
Oscar comes back and sighs in annoyance. "He said another thirty minutes at least of debrief. I feel bad for worrying him now."
Oscar sees where the two are crouched and throws Logan a confused look. "Is everything alright?"
"Well, I think someone needs a band-aid for her elbow and somewhere to wait for daddy." Logan tries to communicate that there is more going on here. Oscar looks between the two, and then his face lights up in some kind realization.
"Lando already left for the day, so my room should be safe. And I know he has crayon band-aids in his room."
She considers the idea. Carefully studying both of their faces for some hint of malicious intent. "Daddy said no strangers."
Logan exaggerates a pondering face. "Are me and Osc strangers? I thought we were best friends!"
She shakes her head yes and moves closer to the American. A reassurance that she does consider him a friend. "More then friend!" She leans up to Logan and motions to lend his ear so she can whisper into it. "Daddy says loves." She giggles, and Logan has to use all his strength not to look dumbfounded at the confession.
Oscar and Logan wrangle her the back way to the McLaren motor home. Their success in going mostly unnoticed has both males breathing in relief as they step into the saftey of Oscar's room.
The Aussie ducks out to grab the band-aid from his teammates' room, and Logan is left to sit with the girl currently looking confused and intrigued. She hesitantly grabs the stuffed koala sitting on the shelf. The one Logan had gotten for him as a joke before they started dating.
"Has name?" Her fingers stroke the soft fluff of the toy.
"I'm not sure. Should we ask Osc when he gets back?" She nods once, then comes and sits on the couch with him. The stuffed koala cradled in her arms like it's the most precious thing she's ever seen.
Logan is still trying to comprehend what she meant earlier. Is it just her small brain misinterpreting something Liam said? Or is this an honest confession that she doesn't currently understand the implications of? He doesn't want to get his hopes up and settles on the second option for now.
Oscar sneaks back in the door and starts unwrapping the bangade. It is, in fact, shaped like a red crayon. Her eyes light up even as he washes the cut and places the band-aid on it.
"There we go, all better now." Oscar smiles at her as she hugs his koala.
"Thank you."
She's completely entranced in the stuffed toy again. Logan taps her on the nose to get her attention. "Did you want to ask Osc your question?"
She makes an 'o' shape with her mouth. "Does koala have a name?" She looks up at him with expectant eyes.
Oscar considers. "Hmmm, I don't think he does. Would you like to give him one?"
She takes careful consideration, weighing all the possible options. "Koko."
"Love it."
"Very creative!"
Her expression changes into something sad. Her eyes once again glassy like before. "Will daddy like?" She curls up in Logans lap with the toy.
"Yeah, he'll love it. Certainly not as much as he loves you."
She hums and closes her eyes. It's adorable and peaceful. "Do you think Liam might let us do this with her again?"
"If he doesn't kill us first. Speaking of, I should let him know where we are."
♡♡♡♡♡
Liam likes to think he's relatively quick. He runs often enough and has good stamina.
This is the fastest he's ever moved in his entire life. He grabs all their stuff with a speed that shocks both Daniel and Yuki.
"What's got you in a hurry, mate?"
"Just eager to see my girl, is all."
Daniel shoots him a wink. "Have a good time!" Liam can only laugh nervously in response. It's certainly not the good time he's thinking of. No, he'd promised her a nice dinner tonight.
Now he's thinking he might have to shift plans. Which - he's not upset about. Liam loves when she's in headspace because it gives him an excuse to do things he wouldn't normally. As in, she's obsessed with cars, and he gets to spend time building the most intricate tracks with household items, blocks, and an ungodly amount of Legos that they have at home. She's always sad when they have to leave them for long periods of time, but he brings a portion with just in case.
He makes for the McLaren garage and is greeted by Oscar out front. It's odd, knowing that their secret is out and yet the Aussie is looking at him affectionately.
They make light conversation while they venture into the building. It feels normal still, nothing to awkward aside from the fact Liam goes on rabbit trails every ten seconds. It's the reason Oscar knows how to handle Lando and his chaotic communication tactics.
Liam mentally slaps himself. Now is not the time to be drooling over his friend's stability and emotional intelligence. He should really just confess. They'd talked about it, they both want it, but that could result in rejection.
Oscar opens the door and slips inside. Liam takes a second to observe the scene in front of him. His girl, happily laying her head in Logan's lap rambling about the koala in her hands.
"Look who I found!" Oscar gestures to Liam. Her head perks up and she scrambles off the couch, slipping to the floor before throwing herself at Liam.
"Hi, love bug." Liam attempts to get on the floor without falling as she clings to him. He fails miserably as the topple over. "Were you good for Oscar and Logan?" She hums something into his chest that he can't decipher.
"She was an angel, honestly." Logan leans forward on the couch. It looks like he's contemplating something, shooting stead looks at Oscar.
With effort, Liam finally gets them situated on the floor. "Do you know what might have triggered this?"
"She scraped her elbow, was that it maybe?"
Liam ponders the suggestion. His eyes find the crayon band-aid that wasn't there the last time he saw her. He sighs, hopefully she was just overwhelmed, and this wasn't an altercation of some kind. "She's struggled with - uh, being shoved around - I guess. You know, home life things."
"Maybe she was shoved and fell which caused the panic attack." Oscar eyes them sadly.
"Well, you two feel up to helping us get out of here?"
♡♡♡♡♡
Oscar doesn't understand how Liam makes this look normal. HAs this been going on under their noses this whole time? If only he could go back in time, rewind a bit and do some research. He and logan could help out if they wanted.
She was falling asleep in the car and still looks like she might clock out in the elevator. Still, Oscar can't help imagining the four of them together, like this.
Liam twirls her around as they walk until she almost falls over. She falls into him, laughing and smiling, the injury from earlier forgotten about.
Their space is comfortable and lived in. The two even slip into a routine, pulling out food for dinner. He whispers something to her, and she skitters off.
They pull chairs out from around the small table. Liam offers them water and something to eat. "So, about... this."
"Which this? The four of us or her specifically?" Logan raises an eyebrow.
"Both."
The girl returns and climbs into Liam's lap clutching a notebook. She flips open to a page and excitedly hands it to Liam to hand to the two across the table.
Oscar isn't sure whether to laugh or melt, so he mixes the two together. The pages are lined with drawings of the four of them. "She's quite the artist."
"You've no idea. Our fridge is covered in artwork." Liam chuckles a bit and wraps his arms around her.
"Told you! More than friends!"
"Do you know what that means, love bug?"
"Three people to cuddle!"
Oscar really does laugh this time. "Well, you're not wrong!" He shoot a look to Logan.
"Count us in." The American smile.
Liam sighs heavily in disappointment. It's a confusing reaction that Oscar wasn't expecting. "She's going to murder me later for not having this talk when she's big."
"Can't be mad if you make me dessert!" A devilish grin spreads across her cheeks.
"Only this once."
"You said that last time."
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hobiebrownismygod · 2 months
Note
PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE MORE SUNSHINE/INNOCENT READER X HOBIE ITS MY LIFELINE I NEED IT PLEASEPLELPSPLZOLSPSLSPSLSKLSPSLSLSLSLSLSLSLZLZLLZLZPLSSPLSL PLEASDEEEEEE IM BANGING ON THE CASTLES WALLS HURUEHEGEH🙏🙏🙏🙏
this took me forever to respond to I'm sorry 😭 im glad you like this trope tho! Thank you for requesting <3
Hobie Brown x Sunshine!Reader
☆ It took his S/O months to muster up the courage to tell him they liked him only for him to straight up go "cool. Are we a thing now?"
☆ They're not one for confrontation and can get pretty shy so he's always there to be the blunt one!
☆ For example, when one of their coworkers kept calling them the wrong name, and they were too shy to correct them, Hobie was the one who told them and made sure the coworker learned his S/O's name properly 😭
☆ His S/O was extremely embarrassed but there was nothing they could really do about it at that point (Hobie was extremely proud of himself for doing that and made sure they knew it)
☆ His S/O doodles whenever they get bored, especially on their arms and legs. They draw cute little animals and flowers and things like that and Hobie absolutely loves them.
☆ He likes to carry around a marker with him so if his S/O ever gets bored, they can draw! He always has his arm out ready to let them draw on him, because even tho his S/O is a little hesitant about it, Hobie LOVES letting them draw on him. They're like little mini tattoos that remind him of them!
☆ Whenever he goes and puts graffiti on walls and buildings outside, he brings his S/O along so they can draw one of their little doodles on the side!
☆ Whenever someone that knows Hobie sees one of those murals/spray paintings, they can always tell it was his because of his S/O's little doodles in the corner!
☆ He also taught his S/O how to spray paint so they could come with him. When he first taught them how to spray paint, they weren't able to figure out the right amount of pressure to put on the spray, so he'd hold their hand and help lead them in the right direction for the first few paintings
☆ He would stand behind them, one hand on their waist, the other hand holding the bottle steady while his S/O stood in front, eyes slightly squinted as they sprayed the paint all over the walls, getting it everywhere
☆ He loved getting to wipe the paint off their face after every painting. His S/O never understood how so much paint could get on them in such little time, but they didn't mind. Hobie was always there to clean them up.
☆ His S/O also loves to read and is always curled up in bed reading a book in their free-time. They're a very expressive reader, and their face always changes whenever a new character pops up or when the plot starts to thicken. Hobie loves watching his S/O read.
☆ Sometimes, when he's really craving some affection, he'll come up behind them and cuddle them while they're reading, nuzzling his head into their shoulder while they smile, eyes glancing down at him before going back to the pages
☆ He'll also let his S/O curl up in his lap, or use him like a comfy chair while they read. He's a pretty skinny, boney person, but he can turn into the softest chair when he wants
☆ Hobie hates phones. He hates when people are on their phones when with friends. He hates when people are looking at their phones when he's trying to talk to them. His S/O knows this and makes sure to never have their phone out when he's around, so he can have their full attention. He loves that.
☆ He loves when his S/O listens to him. He could rant on for hours about whatever he wants, whether its capitalism, or some new gizmo he's building, but his S/O will always be there to listen to him, nodding along and smiling.
☆ Sometimes when he's been talking for a long time, he'll suddenly realize just how lucky he is to have someone so attentive with him. He'll stop talking and his S/O will be confused for a moment, only to be pulled into a hug and a kiss within seconds, trapped in his long lanky arms.
☆ He loves giving his S/O surprise kisses, watching their expression light up and their face turn hot. He'll come up from behind them, arms wrapping around their waist and pulling them in, to leave soft kisses peppering along their cheeks and lips.
☆ Sometimes he'll hide when his S/O comes home, just to jump out from around the corner and tackle them to the ground, covering their face in hundreds of sweet pecks.
☆ And on some rare occasions, his S/O'll attempt to do the same. Sadly, his spider-sense keeps him from getting surprised, so he always knows when it's gonna happen. He pretends to get surprised anyways, because he thinks it's cute when his S/O giggles while on their tiptoes, trying to reach his lips.
⋆。°✩
Taglist: @therealloopylupin2099 @rinverse @l0starl @daydreaming-en-pointe @itsparis-07 @vileviale @puff-hugs @d0uble-tr0ubl3 @lauryn2558 @choccymilkdrinker @sunasslut69 @ask-1610-miles @ask-1610miles @axels-garden @eli21345 @miniaturesuitfox @spotconlon55 @riris-radioactive-panther
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devourable · 11 months
Text
➶ the butcher
sfw | tags ; nb!yandere butcher x gn reader (only prn used for reader is ‘you’), yandere behavior/tendencies, stalking, butchery (duh), violent imagery/ideation + implied violence
i dont see explicitly nonbinary yanderes much at all so im here to change that bc us offgendered mfs can be are crazy too 😌 sorry if this kinda sucks bc i finished this up while half asleep
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you always felt there was something… off. about the 24 hour deli you always passed by.
it seemed to always be empty, aside from the butcher who was constantly at work inside. chopping meat, severing flesh from bone, every action executed with nearly clinical precision. did they ever do anything else? how were they always so busy with so little customers?
you could never understand. but as much as you were put off by the strange little store, curiosity gnawed at you with equal strength.
because of that, the day you entered the shop for the first time late one night, you left all of your concerns at the door.
unbeknownst to you, the butcher had been watching you long before you ever entered their deli. they always felt your eyes on them when you passed by their store — your gaze just felt so different from others. electrical, almost. they always knew when you were nearby. you must've felt it too, right? the connection you had?
but poor rhodes, they could never just approach you! you never stopped by and you didn't even know their name. they never had an opening to meet you formally. it'd be such a shame to scare you off...
thus, they were content with watching you from a distance. they ensured you never noticed their dark eyes following you, only daring to observe you passing in their peripherals or looking in your direction after you had walked far enough away. how wonderful your appearance was... a lovely sight that always brightened up the monotony of their work days. it was so fun to see you go about your life, it satisfied them enough to not mind your lack of connection.
though, sometimes... they couldn't help but imagine the animals they were tearing apart were the folk they occasionally saw you talking to. to tear their skin off of them, cut them into filets and send them far, far away from you... they ideated about it more times than they'd admit. why did you have to interact with others in front of them?
the day you actually entered their shop was a day they'd never forget. they thought they were dreaming when you walked in, shivering from the cold of the night seeking warmth and food in their establishment for the first time. you'd started a new job, see, and your shift ended well after everything else had closed. you were forced to forgo dinner and you were starved. so rhodes' butchery was the only place nearby you could visit.
you were intimidated by them, admittedly. their hulking frame, blank expression, and rough voice combined with the blood and gore constantly clinging to their apron was enough to put anyone on edge. but they couldn't be that bad, right?
their rampant emotions were hidden behind the unwaveringly neutral expression they always held, and you were none the wiser to their thudding heart and the slight tremble in their hands as they took your order.
the exchange was simple enough — you ordered a sandwich and something warm to drink, they made it for you, and you'd sit in one of the few chairs scattering the deli's entrance to enjoy your food and try to wind down after your shift.
and just like that, a routine was established.
you got to know rhodes as you continued to visit their place of work. they weren't scary, just awkward! or so you told yourself. but they were so easy to talk to — albeit not the best conversationalist, they were a superb listener. they'd devote their full attention to you every time you spoke to them, not daring to breathe a word so they wouldn't interrupt your lovely voice. they'd learn everything they could about you during your conversations. how you were gradually getting used to your new job, how it was a good thing they were open so late, how you were grateful for their work... things that they'd replay in their mind over and over again when you left.
you never really thought much of it when rhodes began giving you food on the house, using various excuses from not wanting to have to reopen the register to having conveniently already made your favorite sandwich earlier that day for a canceled order. you were friends now! of course they'd want to do you favors.
you also never really thought of it when the coworker who you'd complained about to them a few times stopped coming to work, either. they made an enemy out of so many people at your job, maybe they got fired? it wasn't any of your business.
rhodes had no clue how they'd get closer to you just yet. but now that you were seeing them regularly, they didn't mind settling for making your life a bit easier.
in any way they could.
after all, no one was going to question a butcher for having bloodied clothes.
718 notes · View notes
5eraphim · 11 months
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Can I request a oneshot of nsfw yandere sniper x s/o with a predator/prey kink. ;)
Uh, so this one went in a super weird direction- but like, Sniper is sososo hard to write for! I'm sorry if this isn't quite what you were looking for, but I tried my best to incorporate the prompt, while twisting it into something fun to write. Sniper isn't my cup of tea, but with this dynamic- („ᵕᴗᵕ„) I've wanted to write something a little exophilic forever, and this request seemed like an apt enough place to do it! I hope you're ok with the odd way this turned out, and I really hope you enjoy!
In this story Reader is a hunter hired to poach a wild beast terrorizing a local's livestock. But when face to face with the monster their roles reverse and Reader has to try and escape becoming Sniper's newest prey.
Title: Poacher's Pride
Character: Werewolf!Sniper 🦘 (Team Fortress 2)
Rating: X (MINORS DNI- YOU KNOW THIS AINT FOR YOU)
Content Warnings: Dub-con, exophilia, mild terato, Dark!Sniper, werewolf, breeding kink, angst-y ending, stalking, yandere, possessive behavior, mates, size difference, forced cuddling/intimacy
Work Count: 5.6k
TIP JAR
MASTER LIST
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You were a hunter. This was a fact. No matter how unfamiliar the terrain or how fearsome the prey was, you were the one with a gun, the killer. So long as you had your gun and wits about you, nothing would change this. The less charitable would call you a poacher, hunting down the rarest prey you could find to sell to the highest bidder. Perhaps this was more accurate, but you hardly cared as long as you had enough money to keep food on the table.
Tonight's mission was nothing special, a report of a wild animal feeding on a farmer's livestock and unnatural howling at night disturbing the farm's residents. While you found it unusual that the farmer who commissioned you to kill the beast couldn't identify the species, as you'd expect one who spent so much time working with animals would know their predators by now. But the farmer was an older man, likely a bit superstitious, and feared whatever creature it was preying upon his livestock was some kind of cryptid or supernatural entity. Though you were far too skeptical to really worry about the paranormal as you listened to the farmer recounting his stories of this monster striking every full moon, the other-worldliness of the howls he heard in the night, none of which you paid much mind to, but nodded and let him speak anyhow. 
Of course, it was easy to tell yourself you didn't believe in monsters during the daylight, but now that you were staking out alone in the middle of the night, you weren't quite so resolute. Despite your fear, you didn't move from your post; hidden in forest foliage a moderate distance from the livestock's pen, you sunk deep into the shadows. Milky-white moonlight illuminated the clearing around you, filtered through the canopy above. It was a full moon, and whatever it was you were hunting was sure to be out any moment. 
You couldn't help but notice the absence of nocturnal insects you were so used to hearing on nighttime stakeouts. You couldn't hear any buzzing from flying insects; no birds were around, nor any other nocturnal creature you could perceive in the darkness. Making you feel all the more alone as seemingly every other living creature knew to keep away from this area while this elusive predator was on the prowl. 
The wind rustling trees overhead helped break up the eerie silence that settled so heavily around you. As the wind picked up, you could hear the sheep beginning to bleat nervously, you swore you felt the hairs on the back of your neck prickle, but you weren't sure the sudden temperature drop was to blame. A tree in the distance swayed noisily, creaking as the wind continued to flow through the forest. 
Time moved painfully still, and you worried the night would never end until a twig snapping in the distance caught your full attention. Your head shot toward the sound, immediately noticing movement in the bushes diagonal to where you were hidden.
You steeled yourself, gritting your teeth almost painfully tight, forcing your eyes to remain focused dead ahead on the rustling bushes, waiting at any second for some kind of creature to emerge. You were expecting some massive wolf, or a cougar, or some kind of hulking mammal to crawl its way from the bushes, but when you watched an unmistakably humanoid figure crawling on all fours from the bushes, you couldn't believe your eyes. 
What you saw was like nothing you'd seen before, the mere sight of this creature freezing you in place; your mouth went dry as you lowered your rifle from the firing position with shaking hands. The beast sniffed at the air, turning it's head in your direction, eyes shining like shards of flint in the night, making your blood run cold, before turning his attention back to the sheep's pen. His head locked in their direction as he rose from all fours to standing upright, forcing you to realize just how massive this beast truly was. Your stomach flipped as the enormous creature's head tilted back to howl in some kind of hellish, animalistic scream, though disturbingly, with undertones of an unmistakably human-like cry. Like a man imitating a wolf's cry, but far, far more accurately than ought to be humanly possible.
This thing- it wasn't human, a man specifically. It was so massive you were too far away to guess its height, but you didn't need to come any closer to know that while standing on two legs. From the tips of its protruding wolf-like ears to its clawed feet, it was taller than any human you'd seen before. A bushy wolf-like tail flicked back and forth behind him, almost as distracting as the horrific way this creature's legs were visibly non-human, even while obscured under a thick coat of fur. 
You were utterly horrified, but you forced yourself to hold your ground, waiting for the monster to look the other way, allowing you to raise your loaded rifle to a firing stance and pull the trigger. The sound of the gun going off cut through the heavy silence of the night, though the sound was nothing compared to the sound of the beast's cry.
To your horror, despite the shot sounding as though it connected with his body, nothing happened. Your eyes were wide with fear and disbelief as you watched the creature turn its head in your direction, eyes narrowing as it growled. With fumbling fingers, you pumped the rifle, firing again to the same effect. Your heart hammered loudly in your ears as you saw the monster continue to growl, not at all fazed by the bullets as it lowered itself to all fours, tail straight out behind before charging in your direction. 
Without sparing a second to think about where you were going, you sprinted deeper into the forest. Too blinded by fear to realize how dangerous it was to run back into the woods like this, but currently, the only thing on your mind was getting as much distance between you and the wild animal as you could. You had a decent head start but didn't know how long that would last. Straying from the main path through the woods, you tried to weave your way through the overgrowth to throw him off your scent. While whatever it was chasing you down was much bigger and faster, you tried to use human agility to your advantage, doing the best you could to avoid getting clotheslined by any of the foliage in the forest. Earlier that day, it rained, and water still drenched the leaves and branches, soaking into your clothes as you ran by. But worse was the slick mud and puddles of water covering your track, making it all the harder to keep running as your feet threatened to slip out from under you at any moment. 
The thundering sound of footsteps in the distance spurred you on. You were too scared to even look back; hearing the snarling and barking of the creature behind made you afraid enough that you didn't need a closer look. The longer you ran, the less light seemed to reach you; the tree's overgrowth was so dense now, the dark shadows of the forest warping your visibility, making you flinch in terror at the sight of even the slightest motion in the corners of your vision.
It was only a matter of time before the wolf caught up to you. It was inevitable. You were on borrowed time and didn't have much longer. Your fate was sealed when you finally lost your footing. Before realizing what happened, you went from upright, running full speed, to crashing into the dirt. You hit the ground hard, bracing your fall with your forearms, enough to protect your face and head, preventing serious injury, though unable to spare yourself the pain of the impact. For just a beat, you lay motionless, too dazed from the fall to move. While you were lucky you hadn't accidentally knocked your head against something when you fell, you felt the wind knock from your lungs. The feeling is not exactly painful, but struggling to breathe only intensified your fear and disorientation. You were so far from home, and the night so dark the situation felt more like a nightmare than reality. 
Initially, you thought you slipped while running, but you soon noticed the feeling of cold metal around your ankle. Still in a daze, you craned your head over your shoulder, looking down at your leg, seeing a silver wire looped around your ankle, a snare. You blinked once, feeling closer to death than ever before, the wild fear flooding your mind now replaced with an icy certainty. You were about to die, and you could do nothing to save yourself now. Weeping bitterly, you saw the shrubs close behind parting, the monster's face for just an instance before you squeezed your eyes shut tight, ducking your head, wrapping your arms around yourself, curling into a little ball, and waiting for the killing blow. 
Time stood still as you cowered in fear, listening to the stalking creature drawing closer, knowing you had nowhere to run now. While you couldn't see him, keeping your head down and eyes shut tight, you could smell him. The blood caught in his fur mats, the scent of the forest trapped in his coat, the gore from his hot breath. He was getting closer. You couldn't take it anymore, and as you heard another low growl and felt a clawed "hand" wrap around your leg to pull you closer, your anxiety spiked, making you black out. 
For a long while, you were somewhere between awake and sleeping. Too scared and too dizzy to open your eyes or try to "wake up," but still, on some level, perceptive of the world around you. You felt like you were dreaming and silently hoped that if you were dead, the pain was already over, and this feeling of passing away would remain gentle forever. 
It was impossible to track time, too woozy to try, too numb to care, but after a while, you realized you weren't moving anymore. Laying in a heap of something soft and dusty-smelling, gingerly easing movement back into your body by groping at the material with your fingers and toes. A fire crackled a short ways away, and the air smelt an odd combination of fresh and stale. And finally, with a little focus, you managed to open your eyes.
Apparently, you weren't dead after all, but you couldn't guess where you were now. Some kind of shack, probably still deep in the woods somewhere. You could hear the rain picking up again outside as tiny beads of rain patted against the windows and tin roof. Fire danced in a fireplace on the other end of the shack, illuminating the chipped paint on the walls and cracks in the plaster. 
Your stomach dropped when you realized you weren't alone; sitting in the corner of the room, somewhat obscured by shadows, the werewolf sat staring at you, sitting back on his hunches, his yellow eyes watching you intently as you finally woke up.
Bizarrely enough, you realized the closer you were to the wolf, the more human he appeared. Despite the shaggy hair running down his neck and shoulders like a mane and wolf-like ears, his face remained strikingly human-esque. Aside from his yellow eyes and sharp teeth, of course. He looked almost docile like this, but you didn't dare move. 
He crept forward slowly on his hands and knees, making you sit up to push yourself away instinctively, but when you saw the blankets covering your chest fall away, you realized you were completely naked under the covers. Gripping the blanket tight in your hand to protect yourself, you looked at him, bewildered.
"Clothes were all wet. You were shivering… Warm yet?" He spoke in fragments, voice low and almost raspy, as though he'd just started talking for the first time in ages. You weren't exactly in a bed, more so a massive pile of blankets and a few pillows pushed into the corner of the room, but it was better than being back out in the rain. You nodded, watching him perching at the foot of the bed. 
In a weak voice, you managed, "Where?" 
You were too muddled to find the right words, but he responded. The wolf-man seemed able to pick up on your emotions, even if you couldn't elaborate verbally.
"My den. Other wolves were out. You're safe here." He spoke bluntly. You felt safe assuming while biologically he was, at best, humanoid, he was intelligent enough to communicate and, judging by the dirty shack he called a den, lived a lifestyle not entirely unlike a human's.
"They won't hurt you here." 
You didn't respond, just nodded. He was closer now, within reaching distance, but your back was against the wall; you could push away any further, even if you wanted to. His attention dropped from your face to the blankets you were nestled amid, reaching under the blankets until he found your feet while you eyed him wearily.
You tensed when he pulled them closer, pushing away the blankets to expose you from your shins down.
He began to lean down a little closer to your body, making you instinctively back up a little, making him pause, sitting at the foot of the nest frowning, looking at you with an almost child-like pout. "Won't hurt you. Can make it better." 
You didn't realize what he meant until he gestured to the laceration encircling just above your ankle, where you caught on the snare. Now that you were really looking at it, it was a bit deeper than you thought, and you'd gotten a few other nasty abrasions from your little game of chase earlier. 
Before you could do anything to stop him, you watched him gripping your injured leg in place with one hand as he leaned his head to the wound before running the flat of his tongue over the cut. You jolted, squirming a little in discomfort, but he wouldn't budge, ignoring your whines of distress as he continued to lap against the wounded skin.
Forcing yourself to breathe slowly, convincing yourself there was still some chance you would make it out of the night alive, you stopped fighting him, ignoring how his fangs would lightly scrape against your flesh as he licked up and down your leg. You had to suppress another spike of fear as he gently pulled the blankets away from you. His eyes flicked up from your wounds to your exposed skin for a moment as he continued working. After another moment, he pulled away, and you sighed in relief.
The respite didn't last too long, however, as he only pulled away so he could crawl on top of you, making your eyes widen, hands drawing into tight fists as you were unable to fully mask your rising dread. You held your breath until he stopped moving, sitting on his knees and elbows over your body. Despite the position, you couldn't ignore how bizarrely mellow he appeared. Very calmly leaning down to run his tongue along your shoulder, making you shiver as the wet muscle made contact with the sensitive skin of your neck. 
Aside from your fear, you had to strain yourself to keep a poker face and ignore the light ticklish sensation you felt. The feeling of his tongue running along your cheek finally caused a break in your composure. "What the hell are you doing?"
The werewolf cocked his head to the side. "I'm grooming you." 
He said it so bluntly, as though it were perfectly normal for humans to give each other tongue baths. While the shock and discomfort had greatly worn off by now, the feeling was invasive all the same. 
"Still hurt?" the werewolf asked. You hated how heartfelt he sounded, confused why a predator species would be so caring concerning your comfort and safety like this. For some reason, you almost felt reluctant to ask him to stop as he looked at you with puppy eyes, not understanding why you wouldn't let him get closer to you.
"No, but.." As he watched you, you trailed off, waiting for you to explain yourself. After a beat of silence, he resumed his work. Snuggling his head tight up against yours.
"Don't want this-" You protested, but Harold sounded sincere.
"Won't hurt you." His words were muffled as he buried his head in the crook of your neck, inhaling, coddling his face against your hair. You went rigid as you felt him take a test bite against your skin, his sharp teeth just barely scraping against the side of your neck while his hands palmed at your body beneath his. While the nest you were brought to was comfortable enough to work as a human bed, the smell of the dog was too distracting for you to relax too much. 
He moved his hands from your chest down to your own hands, clasping them with his own as he brought them from laying limp beside you to the sides of his scalp. Your fingers were instantly lost in the bird's-nest-like mess that was his shaggy mane. 
"Keep them here." 
He wanted scritches? In an act of morbid curiosity, you allowed your hands to ruffle at the fur, feeling his ears twitching a little as you brushed them with your fingertips. Your fingers moved on their own as they tangled into his hair. His hands dropped as you kept yours in place, and he made an odd, almost humming-moan, his tail beginning to wag steadily as you continued to work your fingers in his hair. When your fingers grazed the sides of his ears a little harder, you watched them twitching a little harder, and you couldn't help but stare, wanting to touch them so badly. He didn't pull away when you shyly traced a finger from the base of his ears to prod gently at the side, nor when you cupped your hand against the soft thing, letting you feel him up with curious fingers, smiling to himself, quite enjoying the gentle touch of another after so much time in isolation before now.  
"What are you?" You whispered to yourself, feeling him nuzzle into you.
"Human once, something different now." 
You were about to ask what he meant by this when you felt something hard grazing the top of your thigh, making you freeze. He was breathing much heavier now, pressing himself against you a little harder, pushing his pelvis forward to grind against the top of your thigh. You could feel the blankets originally piled somewhat neatly earlier starting to bunch up and the pillows falling to the side and tumbling in different directions. You could hear the sound of cloth tearing and realized it was likely the sound of his clawed feet getting tangled up in the blankets, accidentally shredding them in the process.
"Keep going- C'mon, more! I need more, more!" He begged and whined, still rutting against you, his hands finding yours again, guiding you to keep playing with his hair, scratching him behind the ear, doing whatever you were doing that was driving him crazy.
You felt an unwanted stir as he continued to grind against you, moaning and panting against your neck, into your ear. His hands separated to return to your body, wanting to feel your curves beneath him. As he continued to play with your flesh, you could hear the werewolf inhaling, catching the scent of something, pausing for a moment as he sniffed, his eyes drifting shut as he sighed, practically moaning out loud. 
"You like this?" His ears were perked upright, and pupils were dilated as he looked at you expectantly. Feeling blood rushing to your cheeks, you shook your head, feeling too overwhelmed to think clearly. But your reluctance only excited him more. He grinned ferally, mouth opening giving you a quick flash of his sharp teeth as he popped two fingers into his mouth, coating them with spit before pulling them out, watching you with eager eyes as they trailed down your stomach until they halted just above your clit.
Without stalling any longer, you felt his two fingers pressing up against the sensitive nub, feeling your heartbeat increase and blood rushing south as he got a little bolder. Collecting the slick between your legs, using it to glide his fingers in gentle circles against you, making your breath hitch and your body tense up. How in the world he knew how to pleasure another human, you couldn't imagine, but he was doing a damn good job of it. You swallowed hard, he was much more adept at keeping his claws to himself than you imagined, and his fingers felt inhumanly big in the best possible way. 
Everything was moving so fast; one minute, you were arching your back underneath him, and the next, you were face down under him. The werewolf pulled away just enough to kneel over you. The feeling of his hands on your waist brought you crashing back to reality, reigniting the fear you'd shamefully forgotten.
Before he could pull you any closer, you inched forward a bit, trying to keep your voice steady despite the wild beating of your heart. "It's not too late, just let me go- Please, if you just let me go, you'll never see me again! I won't tell anyone what I saw!" You pressed your cheek against the blankets trying your best to crane your face to the side and look at him but found no mercy.
"Don't want- you can't leave!" You paused, looking up at him, brows creasing. "Did he almost say he didn't want me to go?" you wondered, noticing how he caught himself, a bit of vulnerability breaking through his intimidation.
"If I let you go. You'll kill me." Before now, even when threatening or intimidating you, there was a note of playfulness to his voice that was gone now. Despite the morbid way the two of you met, he couldn't entirely hide his excitement of bringing a little fresh meat home and, by extension, not having to spend another night alone. 
"I-" He didn't give you a chance to defend yourself.
"Tell me again, what were you hiding out in those bushes earlier?"
You were paralyzed with fear, your mind going blank as his yellow eyes narrowed and his voice lowered to an animalistic growl. His lips drew back in a snarl, bearing his sharp canine-like teeth as you felt his hot breath against your bare flesh as he breathed heavily. You wanted to make up some lie about only shooting him because he startled you, but you knew something like that wouldn't work on him. While the beast wasn't entirely a wild animal, he didn't possess a human's capacity for reason. And with a sinking realization, you knew no amount of begging for mercy, logical reasoning, or threats of retaliation would do anything to stop him. You were now just moments away from meeting your fate, and you could do nothing but accept it. 
You might've cried if you had any strength left, but not anymore. The best you could do for yourself was close your eyes and try to flinch as you felt him peel away a little, sitting back on his haunches before pushing you over and repositioning you to lay flat on your stomach. 
You could feel his saliva and some of your slick still smeared along your sex and inner thighs as he used both hands to grab at your ass, hoisting you up as he positioned himself from behind. Forcing you to bend your knees and arch your back up as he situated himself on his knees from behind. Just the feeling of his head against your core made you squirm in discomfort, though unable to pull away from his hold. You moved your arms from your sides to in front of you, burrowing your head in your forearms. The position was the opposite of dignified, but at least he wouldn't have the satisfaction of seeing the look on your face as he took you.
"I can tell you're scared; I can smell your fear, and I can't say I blame you. But let's see if you'll make a better mate than a hunter." You couldn't tell if he was trying to comfort or mock you, as though that even mattered. The feeling of his tip prodding at your core told you, whether he tried to be gentle or not, you'd feel this in the morning. 
The thick fur covering his underbelly helped to conceal his size before now, even while hard, but you had a feeling he'd be big. It was so odd to feel an animal's fur against your thighs as you felt an unmistakably non-human cock push inside you. While terrified, you thanked God he'd taken the time to prepare your hole. 
While the feeling of stretching around his cock stung, but you couldn't ignore the satisfaction you felt; at last, the emptiness you'd felt was satisfied. You were expecting so much more pain and brutality, but the beast took his time. As though he wanted to make the moment last as long as he could. Given the sound of his labored breathing through grit teeth from behind, you could tell he was trying to hold back. Your thighs spread as you slumped forwards a bit as he pushed inside, making you bite down on your forearm to keep from whining.
"You're So warm! So, so soft inside- hah, S'good" He repositioned his hands from your hips to your back, shoving you down even harder as he pushed all the way inside. He was pushing your chest so hard into the nest it was hard to breathe. You had no idea if he could even tell what he was doing to you or if he was already so blinded by his own pleasure. 
His claws pressed a little harder against the flesh of your back, not enough to draw blood, but enough to remind you he could do so in a second if he wanted to. The beast kept one hand on your back, the other sliding forward to meet your own hand. Using his massive hand, he guided yours from in front of you back down to your side before fully seizing your hand, bringing it under your belly, groping downwards and around for a moment until he managed to find your clit. 
Forcing your fingers against your clit he growled, "Touch yourself for me. Wanna- I wanna know what you feel like when you come."
 Something about the loss of control, the fear and adrenaline overrunning your body, made perverse moments feel sickly exciting. And you didn't hold back much longer, your fingers rubbing circles over your swollen clit as he pulled out and began to rock back and forth. Your body limply moving in rhythm with the overwhelming force from behind. 
Your cheek flattened against the blankets as he dug his claws a little harder into your back, raking your bare skin as he began to pick up speed. The pain and pleasure overtook your mind as you felt yourself getting even wetter, your hand moving even faster over your clit. He was already so hard, but you could've sworn you felt him swelling up a little inside you. You didn't want to think about what would happen after he inevitably came inside you. The only thing on your mind now was your own climax, the smell of sex in the air spurring you on, making you hornier, needier, exactly like the wolf behind you.
Closing your eyes, you felt yourself tightening against the werewolf, your muscles acting with a mind of their own as you could feel your climax coming on; the feeling of your body so hot and painfully close to orgasm was driving him wild, knowing he wouldn't last much longer than you. And sure enough, with a breathy sigh of relief, you came. Feeling your body gripping against the werewolf as you grinded yourself against him, riding out your orgasm as long as possible. 
The afterglow set in not long after, making the feeling of the werewolf behind you thrusting in and out wildly much more bearable. You gasped out loud when you felt him bust, his seed fucked deep inside your body while you two were momentarily forced to remain connected. Fortunately, this didn't last as long as you feared it would, and not long after his climax, you felt the swelling between your legs going down, giving you enough wiggle room to pull yourself off him. As far away as you could while he was still pressing his weight down on your back. 
Feeling a bit more clear-headed after cumming, you began to try and pull further away from the monster behind, but he still had you pinned, and the longer you were like this, the more aware you were of the sting of the scratch marks on your back, making you feel like a cornered mouse under a cat's paw. Thankfully he eventually lifted his weight from behind you, finally allowing you to take a deep breath as he sat back on his haunches, likely enjoying the view of your abused body limp and sprawled out like this in his nest. 
After a moment, you heard him shifting behind you, repositioning the pillows and blankets in his nest as you lay face down in the center. He pulled you from your stomach to your side as you instinctively curled into the fetal position. The werewolf propped you against some pillows as though you weighed nothing before sliding into bed beside you, gently coaxing your body from a tight ball to wrap around him, tucking your head under his chin. Burying your head against his chest, you could hear the slow thumping of his heart as his hands smoothed against your back and hair.
Everything felt surreal; the creature you were so certain would end your life less than a few hours ago now had you curled up against him like a teddy bear. Making sure you were comfortable and not smothered by his thick tufts of hair. Your self-preservation instincts told you to let him do as he pleased with you. The last thing you wanted was to provoke him into another round of what you'd just endured. But even without saying anything, you felt his head shift away from you to face you. His brow creased slightly in what appeared to be confusion.
"You're still scared?"
"I don't understand… Why haven't you killed me yet? You're a predator- surely you could've done it by now; what are you waiting for?" You bit your lower lip, hoping desperately he wouldn't take that as a challenge.
"You're not my prey anymore." To your surprise, he didn't sound upset, his voice notably softer than you'd heard all night, as though trying not to frighten you. You wanted him to explain what he meant but were too scared to ask. You let him pull your back under his chin, his fingers twisting around your hair.
"I'll protect you. But if you try to leave me, I'll have to stop you." As quickly as it had come, the softness in his voice was gone. 
"We're one now. And the longer you're here, the closer we'll be." You didn't understand what he meant by this. You were still oblivious to what this creature was, and you were too terrified to speculate about what was now inside of you.
"You can't really think we'll be together forever after this, do you?" It was hard to tell if you were trying to convince him of this or yourself. 
You wanted to believe he was wrong, a wild animal with no concept of forever, but by now, you knew he was far from entirely bestial. "I… I don't understand." 
"We're mates now. We're bonded for life." You were well aware that it was dangerous to provoke him, but despite his bluntness, he sounded notably calm, and you couldn't keep your curiosity to yourself.
"What does it mean to be mates? How can you be so sure we're mated for life?" You had to choose your words carefully, trying your best to avoid saying something like, "your kind mate for life." to prevent the risk of offending him. 
"I know so." He was so blunt and sure of himself that it scared you, and you had a bad feeling he wasn't just trying to intimidate you. 
For a moment, he was quiet, as though trying to choose his next words carefully. "I've been a lone wolf for years now. It's miserable; I can't go back to that." 
He paused again, and you were unfortunately forced to remember the monster curled around you like a fur coat was once a human and, to some unknowable degree, still was. You didn't want to see him as anything but a brute, an animal acting on primal impulses, but you knew this wasn't true. And if you were in his position, spending years as a reclusive creature of the night, forced to live in the shadows like a stray, you might be just as desperate to escape such a purgatory. 
"But, I'm not like you; people are going to come try to find me-" The wolf interrupted Before you could finish the thought.
"I won't let them take you. I'll protect you. Keep you here as long as it takes for you to settle." 
It wasn't a promise; it was a fact. Just as it was a fact, so long as the werewolf lived, you weren't going anywhere.
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nixie-writes · 8 months
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Hi! Could I request a platonic Stolas and f!child turned demon reader, but the child tried to be so good in life to gain her father's care but always failed. She ran into Stolas when running in the forest hurt and tried to run away, but wakes up in hell as a demon soon after to be found by him again, no worries if not! Have a lovely day!!
-you were always a good kid. You followed directions, you did the best for your father, you were the poster child for a good kid. You were always vying for your father's attention but failed; he was too invested in other things to look your way. It broke your heart.
-one night you'd gone out into the forest, running away from your father. You were tired of his neglect and wanted to live on your own. However, that didn't work as planned; you were jumped by a wild animal and you were running away blindly through the forest, mortally injured and hoping to find anyone who could help.
-as you were running you bumped into a solid figure and fell down, clutching your arm, which was torn open. You looked up to see a bird-like figure hovering over you. It wore a cape and had owl-like features. Was it a cryptid? You scooted away, trying to find the strength to keep running, but the owl-like figure simply bent down over you and pressed a hand to your forehead, and the world went black.
-when you finally woke up, you found yourself in a world of red, with screaming and gun shots surrounding you. It was terrifying. You skittered to the closest alleyway you could find. Your wounds were healed, you were no longer in any pain, but where were you?
-after growing a little used to your surroundings you exited the alleyway. You knew you had to find that bird cryptid wherever you were. Actually, where were you? You stopped a short figure on the street - they had large black and white horns and red skin - and asked them where you were. They burst out laughing. "You must've done something fucked up to end up here! You're in Hell kid," they replied before going along their way. Did that bird send you to Hell?
-you wandered on the street for about another hour before hearing a familiar cooing voice. You rounded the corner and listened intently. "Oh Blitzy, do please be safe on this mission; I would hate for anything to happen to you," he spoke into his phone. This was the bird cryptid - or, demon - who sent you to Hell! You were polite enough to wait for him to end his phone call before approaching him.
-"hey, you..." you began, trying to start up a conversation. The bird demon turned to look at you, at first with uncaring eyes, then a shocked expression. "Oh my stars, it's you!" he hooted excitedly. "Did my spell work? Are you healed?" you showed him your arm, freshly scarred but not bleeding anymore. "You poor thing," he hummed. "Come with me, I'll get you all cleaned up," you felt you could trust this bird demon, whatever his name was, so you followed.
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fuckmyskywalker · 5 months
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need to ride dad!Anakin’s combat boot while he works on some mission plan…
— CW: 18+, Smut. Fauxcest (Anakin is called "Dad"), if you are uncomfortable/don't like it don't read it. Grinding. Boot riding. Mentions of pet play. Slight mean Anakin.
— a/n: I'm a dad!Anakin apologist. At this point I'm down bad. Also, please take this as an apology for my hiatus.
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“Stop fidgeting so much,” Anakin whispers, yanking your hair by the roots and gritting his teeth. “Dad is busy.” Biting your lips to hold a whine, you nod. He is generous enough to let you get off on his boot, perhaps you are being too greedy. Anakin rolls his eyes and returns his attention to the communicator on his wrist. “Sorry about that… my dog was trying to jump on the couch.” The lie is not even convincing, but his tone is. 
“You have a dog?” Obi-Wan asks from the other side of the line. “Since when?”
Anakin looks at you, lifting his foot so your wet folds rub against the tip. “Around 6 months?” His lips curve to a wicked smile, that’s the time you two have been dating. Holding onto his knee, you gasp quietly, jolting your hips forward to increase the speed of your grinding. “Where were we?” He coughs.
“Ah— yes,” Obi-Wan continues. “There are reports of increased Separatist activity near the Rishi Maze. It's a strategic location, and our sources indicate a possible assembly of their forces. I believe we should investigate and take preventive measures." 
“The Rishi Maze has been a critical region lately…” Anakin observes, humming as he pulls on your hair again. “Rex mentioned something about that, something about unusual encrypted communications.”
“I’ll propose the mission to the Council. Maybe they’ll give us the green light.”
“Thank you Obi-Wan, you know they won’t listen to me.” You are glad Anakin is about to hang up the call, hoping he’ll finally pay attention to you. “I’ll see you tomorrow—” But your excitement is too much. The slick that coats his black leather boots helps ease the rocking of your hips, but after a particularly harsh grind on the hem of the tongue of the shoe, a broken whine escapes your lips— painfully audible. Anakin’s eyes narrow and his shoulders tense; you can read it in his eyes, you are in big trouble.
“What was that?” Obi-Wan asks. You can even hear his frown. 
“My dog” Anakin spits, leaning forward and pushing you off his boot. Lifting it, he places the heel against your naked shoulder. “She just wants attention. I think she is in heat or something, I don’t know much about animals.”
Obi-Wan sighs through the communicator. “A dog is a responsibility you are not ready for, Anakin. How did you manage to keep her alive for more than a week?”
“Oh, I have my ways. Turns out I’m a better dad than I thought.”
Obi-Wan chuckles, but there is nothing humorous about the situation… not for you at least. 
When the call finally ends you can breathe, but Anakin seems to have other plans in his twisted mind. Standing up, he removes the commlink from his wrist and throws it over the couch where he was sitting seconds ago. Staring down at you, he shakes his head as you attempt to stand up, applying more pressure against your shoulder until you are lying on the cold wooden floor of your flat, his heel digging painfully against your skin.
“Are you that desperate?” He asks mockingly. It is better for you if you cooperate, it is a lesson you learned the hard way. “Are you that needy for Dad’s cock?” You nod to both questions, feeling your cheeks heat up at the humiliation.
“Please, Dad. I’m sorry— I didn’t mean to—”
“Shut up.” He rolls his blue eyes, taking a few steps so both boots are now on either side of your head. You have a direct view of his crotch, shivering at the sight of the visible outline of his cock under his black pants. “I think you need a lesson again. To be reminded of your place.” His voice lowers, and you don’t know if you are shivering from pleasure or fear. “But don’t worry, Dad will take care of you.”
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ramsywasalittlelamb · 6 months
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Cg!Alfred Pennyworth headcanons!
(Mentions of regressor batfam and cg bruce throughout the list!!)
a gift to @cutiecorner !! i hope you feel better soon and enjoy these hc’s <3 :]
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Bruce never had to tell Alfred directly about his regression, it just naturally happened over time.
Sure, there were conversations about how to go about it and boundaries, but no direct coming out conversation.
Alfred is already observant, and he’s been taking care of Bruce since he was a baby. The man knows his son.
When one of his kids regresses, he’s always the first to notice, as well as the first person by their side to assist them if they need it.
Alfred’s swaddling has become a household favorite.
The blankets are always soft and smell like vanilla lavender, which is a personal favorite scent of bruce’s.
Bruce’s kids always prefer to run off and grab a blanket from the study or office to be swaddled in, since it smells like a mixture between Bruce’s cologne and Alfred’s cinnamon tea, familiar and comforting scents.
He’s mastered the art of being able to divide his attention between kids equally to ensure nobody gets upset that he may spend more time or attention on a smaller regressor.
Bruce goes between being a caregiver and a regressor, and though most of the kids would never admit it to bruce (Dick is blunt and honest when he’s regressed, a trait that Bruce has a love hate relationship with.) Alfred’s milk recipe is just different in a way that can’t be replicated, they’re never too sweet, never too warm or hot. Always perfect.
Most kids least favorite time of day is bedtime, but everyone in the house adores it when they’re regressed.
Alfred makes it fun for the still energetic ones, making it a game or challenge to do their bedtime routine, like brushing their teeth and taking care of their face and hair.
“Good job, sweetheart! Lets see who can brush their teeth the best!”
For the soft and gentle sleepy ones, he helps them around, doing the routine mostly for them with soft praises and encouragement to keep them awake long enough to get them in bed.
“Oh, you’re very tired, little one. Let me wash your face and then you can cuddle up in your warm bed, hm?”
The only time one of the kids don’t like going to bed is if they’re between being regressed and not because they’re tense and stressed from doing work, but Alfred can always guarantee that he can pull anyone away from their work with a little bit of babying.
Taking their hands in his, doing more things for them than usual, making their favorite snack or drink.. the list goes on.
He loves when his kiddo’s stick to his side all the time. Wether it be curious about what he’s doing around the house today, or just wanting to be around Alfie because there’s no reason needed for that, he loves it. Absolutely adores it.
If someone gets hurt, he’s always rushing to their side, cradling their head with whispered assurances as he examines the injury.
“Oh dear, don’t fret, Alfie’s here to help you. Now let’s see where you got hurt.”
If someone is upset, Alfred will do anything to keep his babies from crying. If it’s something minor, like a stuffed animal having to be washed, he’ll play games with them to keep them distracted. If they’re super tiny he’ll make funny faces like he used to with baby bruce.
If it’s something bigger that can’t simply be distracted with, he’ll sit with them and hold them in his lap as they cry. If they wanna talk, he’ll listen and nod along, talk about how brave they are. If they don’t want to, he’ll just press kisses to their head, tell them how they’re so strong.
“It may not be okay right now, darling, but I promise you it will get better.”
He would never let one of the kids see, mostly out of fear that they would begin to worry about him, but once they’re all in bed or he watches them play from afar and enjoy themselves, he sheds a few tears at the fact that his kids not only found a way to help with their issues, but that they trust him with the honor of helping and taking care of them in such a sensitive situation.
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kxsalt · 6 months
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True story: I have a sub with a voice kink and an age gap kink (among many others, she’s a complete whore) so I recorded this and sent it to her and she’s been listening to it the last few days to make herself horny. Text as follows, might post the audio later:
I’ve been thinking about why I like fucking younger women lately. I’ve always just assumed it was for their bodies: cute perky breasts, tight pussy, that needy doe-eyed expression.
But as I get older I find women my age just as physically attractive, sometimes even more. Even so, I still prefer to fuck a girl at least five years younger than me, ideally closer to a decade age gap.
I’ve realized that it’s not just about her body. Though enjoyable, my favourite part is her mind.
A girl in her early twenties is still finding her way in the world. Unsure of herself, she needs clear direction. She asks big questions, and she needs confident answers.
Who am I? You’re a slut.
Why am I here? To be used for sex.
What should I do? Take your clothes off and bend over.
Obviously, anyone who calls themselves a sub should already know these answers. Anybody can ask to be fucked senseless, the difference is that she needs it. A little needs those answers reaffirmed, and nothing is so comforting as physical affirmation.
She needs to feel my cum running down her leg, so she knows she’s a slut.
She needs to be slapped, and choked, and spit on, so she knows that she’s being used.
She needs to be ordered around, so she knows exactly what to do.
Taking advantage of her desire for attention and direction, she becomes pliable, obedient, and perfectly useful. Lots of people have rough, filthy sex; but she needs it. She needs to be a trembling, cum-drunk, messy whore so she knows her place in the world.
Not that I think she’s completely naive, it’s that her nature overwhelms her reason. She knows a prudish society told her she shouldn’t, but she can’t stop. An ancient evolutionary instinct overwhelms those modern social constructs.
An instinct to let her caretaker bring her to the den, keep her warm and fed and safe, and to breed her over and over and over again. She finally takes a break from thinking of all the things people told her she had to be, or not be, or could or couldn’t be, and she just is. An animal, made by God to fuck and eat and rest and do it all again the next day.
She curls up in my arms, blissfully present, absolutely willing to be used again for her perfect purpose.
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oleander-nin · 7 months
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Horrortober Day 23- Pretend(Yandere Rise Raph x Reader)
A/N, not important: Any criticism is welcome, constructive or not. This is supposed to be a gender neutral reader, so if I screwed up somewhere, please tell me.
-Ollie
CW: loss of will to live, dark themes, yan themes
Words: 877
Summary: Raph finally broke you down
Your smaller arms move with Raph’s hand, a small smile on his face while he positions you on his bed. You were nested in his room, the piles of stuffed animals and pillows nearly drowning you from the sheer amount. Your eyes were glassy, doll-like and vacant. Whatever love for life you once had was gone, Raph’s suppressive hold smothering the light you once had. Raph didn’t mind, his smile widening while your head lolls to the side and you breathe out slowly. You were perfect now, so sweet and compliant to whatever he wanted.
Your heart didn’t quicken when Raph came near anymore, nor when he lost his temper and raised his voice. You didn’t even cry anymore when he touched you, now just sinking into the only comfort you were allowed with acceptance. Raph appreciated your new attitude, proud of himself for breaking you down. This was what he wanted, for you to be safe and happy with him. He can’t help but be pleased with how well his plan went, especially since he didn’t even need to ask his brothers for help. He kept you all on his own.
Raph shifts the blankets on top of you, smiling as he watches you struggle to keep your glassy eyes open. Watching you doze off was always a pleasure, something he had for himself that he'd never have to share. Your nose twitches as you breathe, your breath the only thing that separates you from the dolls and stuffies that surround you. You're completely still, only moving when Raph directs you.
Raph watches you for a moment more, smiling softly as you start to doze. He notices your cracked lips, the way your breath is slightly wheezy. His smile turns to a frown, his hands rubbing his wrists raw as he exits the room to make for the kitchen. He barely greets his brothers as he passes them, his brow line etched into the proclaimed “Raph Chasm”. He wasn’t sure the last time you drank water, especially since you didn’t ask for things anymore. It was the only downside he could find to your new personality. He missed your voice, even when all you used to do was yell.
Raph enters the kitchen, nodding a hello to his youngest brother while he cooks. The smell of the kitchen makes Raph’s mouth water, the soup simmering on the stove making his stomach rumble. Raph shakes himself out of the food trance, directing his attention back to the cabinet as he grabs a glass. He fills it up with ice and water from the sink, listening to the ice crack in the cup while the warmer water lands on it.
“How are they?” Mikey asks, still stirring his soup and making sure it didn't burn. Raph hums, grinning.
“They’re good. Just getting them some water.” Raph replies, his eyes glued to the rising water level of the cup. He turns off the sink, pulling the glass back and starts to walk out, taking careful steps to not spill the water. Mikey laughs as he watches his giant brother, the way he was trying to tiptoe through the kitchen making more of a mess than if he walked normally. Raph makes it back to his room with minimal spilling, his face twisted in regret from filling the water so high.
As he sets the glass of water down on the bedside table, Raph frowns when he looks at you. The way you were sitting, the way your eyes were closed and how you sank into the plushies around you. He was no longer able to tell the difference between you, and the stuffed animals lining his bed. You were still in the same position he left you, your eyes closed and face pale, sweat gathering on your brow. 
Raph brings his hand to your forehead, expecting it to be hot, but it was normal. You weren’t sick from what Raph could tell. He shakes you softly, watching your big, glassy eyes open with a smile. He helps you sit up, your limbs rubber and limp. His touch is gentle, lifting your chin easily like it would crack if he was too harsh. He lifted the water to your lips, letting you drink from the cup. Your hands move on their own for the first time, instinct kicking in as water dribbles from your mouth at the clumsy assistance. You take the cup and finish drinking, wiping the excess liquid from your mouth. Raph ruffles your hair as he takes the cup away from you, putting it back on the table. He’d have to start bringing you more, not wanting you to wither away on him.
You settle back down while Raph sits on the edge of the bed, his hand on yours as you tilt back and your eyes close again. You blend in with the other dolls, still, calm, and quiet. Your breathing is so still it seems to have stopped, Raph only comforted in your life by the feel of your heart beat below the skin of your wrist. Raph closes his eyes, a pang of guilt flowing through him for just a moment. He misses when you didn’t have to pretend that you were still alive.
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romanoffsbish · 1 year
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Meet the Fockers Bishop-Belova’s
Natasha Romanoff x (Dr.Doolittle)F!R
Bishova 🥰
Liho to the Rescue (Part 1)
Natasha has a mission, entrusting you and Liho with Yelena, Kate, and their dogs that couldn’t be more different, and you (un)fortunately get to spend a week getting to know all of them intimately.
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"Lucky Bishop, you are embarrassing us in front of the guest, sit still."
"But Fanny! Look! No matter how fast I go, my tail never gets closer, it's crazy isn't it?!"
"They're so uncultured, this is why cats are the better option. Imagine being a dog person."
To the women before you exchanging familiar friendly greetings it is a normal occurrence, the dogs barking while the cat lazily meows atop of Natasha's shoulder. To you though, it's an interesting engagement that you almost feel bad for intruding on, but not enough to not laugh out loud, instantly drawing the attention of all the humans, and animals before you.
——
"Oh, let me introduce you all to my girlfriend," Natasha beams, gently tugging you forward and right into her side for a comforting hug, "This is Y/N." Yelena immediately gasps and steps forward, "The animal whisperer right?"
"Yes she is, I can no longer have my thoughts to myself," Liho groans, and you lean forward to glare at the feline, and he tilts his head back in challenge, "Yes, that's me, and if you're curious I offer interrogation services, it's how I found out that Liho ate Nat's hoop earrings."
"You promised!" Liho shimmies onto Nat's other shoulder and swats at you, "Yeah, and you just dissed me, served you right, jerk!"
"This is so cool! Tell me, what's Fanny thinking right now?" Yelena jumps in place, clapping her hands together in obvious excitement.
"Well, I don't invade their thoughts, so why don't you ask her, and I'll respond for her."
"Fanny, my truest love, what's on your mind?"
Your girlfriend and you bite back a laugh when seeing Kate's face scrunch up in offense as her aloof girlfriend drops to her knees and cups her pooches face, "Tell my new friend baby."
"Well, for starters, I wish for Lucky to stop breathing down my neck, it is bothersome," she barked curtly, "Then, I would like to go to the barn and chase the chickens to decompress."
"She's very, um, well," you paused, looking to your lover for help she simply couldn't offer you, "She'd like some personal space, and she wishes to chase the chickens to get it."
"Mention Lucky, she's too clingy!" she barked shortly in your direction, and you smiled sympathetically at the whimpering retriever, "She'd also like for me to mention that dear, sweet Lucky's a bit too clingy at times."
"Kate Bishop! I told you that Lucky was crowding her, didn't I?" she scolded, then gasped, "Oh my god, I'm a dog whisperer too!"
"Go ahead, chase the chickens moya lyubov'," she pecked the pooches wet nose, then rose back up to face all of your stunned faces, "What? You expected me to say no to her?"
Natasha turned to you with an apologetic smile, "I'm so sorry detka," she nuzzled her nose with yours and softly pressed her lips to yours, "I'll only be be gone for a week."
"Don't worry Natasha! She will be fine!" Yelena boasted, then your girlfriend shook her head as you were torn from her, "Now, we have fun!!"
Natasha blew your shocked form a kiss from the car, then she sent up a prayer to whatever higher power listening that you don't breakup with her at the end of this sure to be long week.
"How's it going moya lyubov'?" Natasha asked through the phone, and you shot her a smile, but it didn't reach your eyes, "I miss you Nat. It's so cold without you to snuggle up to."
"Aww baby," she cooed as she lifted the phone closer to her face, as if that equated to comfort, and in a way it did as you giggled softly at the sight of her nostrils, "You can cuddle Liho."
"No, she can't!"
You rolled your eyes, and Natasha smirked in understanding as she heard the cat plop onto the ground after you gently nudged it with your foot, "Can't you two just get along, for once?"
"We once did, then she betrayed me, and never gave me my can of tuna after doing so!"
"Blame Natasha! I tried to, but she said no tuna for naughty cats, and you just keep acting up!"
"He broke my limited edition nunchucks!" Natasha shouted, reaffirming your stance, and it seemed to soften the black cat a smidge.
"Hmph," Liho meowed angrily while plopping onto your chest, giving Natasha a view of his butt instead of you, "I want my damn tuna."
Natasha gasped, "Did he just swear?"
"Uh, I'm not even going to ask how you know."
"Easy, when you bicker he meows like that."
You chuckled softly, "Goodnight Natty, be safe please," you smiled at your awkwardly tilted phone before blowing her a kiss that she caught, "Always am, I can't leave you two behind, you'll likely kill each other if I did."
After you set your phone down on the bedside table you whispered softly, "I love you Nat."
"Why don't you say it to her instead of the air?"
"Because, I don't think she's there yet Liho, and the last thing I want is to scare her away."
"You're being dumb then, she's totally in love."
"Be nice, or you can sleep with the dogs."
Liho's defiance instantly faded, he nuzzled into your chest, and began to purr so loudly you couldn't hear your insecure thoughts, making your trip into the realm of unconscious fast.
Natasha stared down at her phone with a sad smile, she'd accidentally pressed mute over end, and in turn she heard your confession.
It felt wrong, she knew she didn't mean to do it, but she has yet to hang up so she also didn't do the right thing. At this point you were snoring, an adorable sound she's grown used to. Honestly, it brought her comfort, and that was good because she was in a state of shock.
Natasha knew she loved you, it wasn't hard for her to breakdown the emotion, but she's never been on the receiving end of such a feeling. Romance hadn't even interested her until she first saw you, it was like everything she ever knew went right out the door the second your sweet voice broke through her steel walls.
With how easily she fell though, it was as if her walls were only made of paper for you. You cracked the code, and your reward was her battered heart, and you accepted it wholly. That much apparent now that you'd confessed in presumed secret that you loved her too.
Natasha whispered softly with a smile, "I love you too," before the line finally went dead.
"I knew it," Liho meowed tiredly atop of you, but fortunately you were too gone to hear.
The following morning you awoke when the sun peaked through the blinds, making Liho purr in thanks for the newfound warmth. It was a moment of total bliss, then the sounds of dogs excitedly barking led to you wincing once sharp claws penetrated through your thick sleep shirt and then the skin of your breasts.
"Stupid canines, do they not know how to keep their volume at a maximum of total silence?"
"Jesus, Liho are you sure you're three? You act like an elderly man with kids on his lawn."
"I do not get your inference, but I will say kids are annoying too, so I understand the man."
With a gentle touch you removed the cat from your chest, then you entered the bathroom to get your morning hygiene done, and while doing so you saw Natasha had texted you.
*Good morning krasivaya, I miss you, and I'm counting down the days until you're back in my arms. Have fun (if you can—again, I'm sorry), I will try to call you later, but I might end up being forced to go no contact.*
You frowned, but you understood that she had a job to do, but it wasn't long before you were smiling as she'd also sent you some photos. There was a selfie of her smiling, then you got to see the reason for her excitement as the next photo was of her with a stray calico kitten that you have an inkling you'll be meeting soon.
There was a final photo, and you audibly awed at the shot of you two on the couch, you were giggling and Natasha was holding onto you tightly from behind, with a par-visible grin as she pressed her face into your neck.
*Don't forget about me as you snuggle Liho*
When you finally ventured out of your room you made your way to the kitchen to find Kate alone while studying for some math course.
"You wouldn't happen to know how to find the x would you?" The raven haired girl asked you tiredly, and you chuckled softly, "Not really, I've always found it's best not to question them, but to instead leave them in the past."
Kate rolled her eyes playfully, then went to refocus on her paper but then her dog barked, catching her off guard, "What is it honey?"
"Well mama, you needs to get all like minded variables to the same side, then you'll get what she needs. Which would make x = 10 here."
Kate's eyes widened as you regurgitated Lucky's tip, she stared down at her dog in bewilderment, "Oh my gosh, my dogs a genius. We should call all the local news stations!"
"Kate, you guys live in the far away woods."
Kate deflated slightly, "You have a point."
After you collected your psyche, you moved about to get breakfast as well, then just as you were about to leave Kate stopped you with a hand in your face, "Wait! I just want you to know I knew how to do it, I'm smart too!"
“Don’t worry darling, I figured as much.”
——
A few days into your stay and you were feeling as if your only purpose was to service Yelena and her need to be in constant communication with Fanny, who was growing irritated by it.
"Ask her," you quietly groaned along with the poor dog who's head now burrowed beneath the pillow in her dog bed, a sign you'd think a well trained spy would catch, but she didn't.
"Tell her that she is worse than Lucky."
"You know, I think Fanny's tired."
"Y/N Y/L/N, I know my dog, she is not tired. We've not even taken our morning walk yet."
"I just want to know, does she prefer to take selfies with me or to live more in the moment."
"Tell her I'd actually like to live alone."
"She's very much all for living in the moment, now, if you'll excuse me I need to go pee."
As you passed the kitchen you saw Kate wearing a smile, "What did she really say?"
"Nothing the blonde’s heart can handle."
Kate nodded, "I figured as such, now go, hide in the study, Yelena hates books, she says they are just tiny, evil distractions, but actually, and don't tell her I told you, but she read Marley and Me and never went back in there again."
“That’s understandable… Welp, I’ll be going now, you’ll know exactly where to find me.”
——
The week you spent at the Bishop-Belova's was interesting to say the least, and unpleasant if you’re being honest. Finding yourself in the middle of an all out war sealed that in for you.
“Kate Bishop! Take your hand off of Y/N, she is mine!” Yelena yanked you away from her lover with all her might, and in doing so she nearly dislocated your shoulder, “My sisters girlfriend makes her mine before it makes her yours!”
“Yelena! She is her own person first, and you are making her miserable, it’s always: Fanny this, Fanny that, oh, what does Fanny think?” Kate shouted back, arms waving around like crazy, and you knew this was reaching way beyond yours and Fanny’s overall discomfort.
“What about me? What about my thoughts?”
Yelena’s brow’s scrunched, “I don’t need to hear them, I can read them on your face.”
“Oh, can you really now?” Kate arched a brow, and you watched as Yelena visibly froze up, and though this wasn’t your business you hated watching the poor girl struggle to understand.
“If I may,” Kate reluctantly nodded, so you gently touched Yelena’s arm, then leaned in to whisper, “She is feeling unappreciated, maybe you could take her out to a nice dinner.”
“Unappreciated? I appreciate her always!” Yelena shrieked in offense, “Who cleans her bow and arrows?” Kate frowned, “I do.”
“Yeah, the wrong way, so I go back and fix it,” Yelena boasted, and you saw a lightbulb of sort flicker behind the archers now widened eyes.
“Yelena, please tell me you’re not the reason I almost took Clint out on a mission last week.”
Yelena smirked, “I can neither confirm nor deny, but I can say it wasn’t my intention, more so a happy little accident in favor of my glee.”
“What did you use? Grease?” Kate shrieked in wonder and the blonde tentatively nodded.
“Welp, I’m going to chase the chickens again,” Fanny barked out of nowhere, you watched as the fluffy Akita stretched its entire body before making the great escape. Lucky whimpered as his ‘friend’ left, “I’m going to chase Fanny.”
“When is Natasha returning for us?” Liho questioned stoically while jumping atop the table before you out of nowhere, “I’m not sure I can handle their bickering for much longer.”
“Oh, because we’re so much better?”
Liho tilted his head, the cat’s equivalent of a shoulder shrug, “At least with those I win.”
“You do not!”
“Do too!”
Natasha watched from the doorway as the pairs of you were readily going at it, she found the sight rather amusing really. That was until Liho pounced onto your back when you tried to walk away, meanwhile Yelena was in a chokehold because she didn’t know when best to do that.
Natasha suddenly cleared her throat, spurring Liho to dart down the hallway as a tactic of self preservation, and for the couple hosting you to straighten up, and run away upon seeing the unamused glare of the one who trusted them.
Once they were all gone you ran into your lover, but pulled back from her embrace just as a soft hissing came from beneath her hoodie.
“Natty?” she smiled bashfully, “Don’t get mad.”
With a gentle movement the redhead pulled her hoodie forward, allowing the kitten you recognized from the photos to peak its little head out so that it could silently observe you.
“Ugroza,” Natasha smiles widely as she tells you the newest additions name, “It fits her, it means menace; we’ll call her Roza for short.”
“Liho isn’t going to appreciate this,” you teased while moving to hug your lover much slower this time, with the now sleeping cat snuggled between your bodies, “He’ll get over it,” she shrugged her shoulders playfully, then she leaned in to kiss you with total tenderness.
“I missed you so much Natty,” you whispered as you nuzzled into the side of her neck that the cat wasn’t perched upon, “Don’t leave again.”
Natasha sighed, “I wish I never had to love, but the world needs saving, and you protecting.”
“I’m sorry you have to worry about me, I wish I wasn’t so helpless,” you lamented, and the redhead immediately moved to hug you tighter, “Helpless or not I’ll always worry Y/N, I never stop worrying about those that I love.”
Natasha smiled as you choked on air, the small breath released hitting her skin causing her to shiver lightly, “You love me?” you looked up at her with untrusting eyes, it hurt her, but she couldn’t blame you for being scared, because she herself was terrified, but you were worth it.
Worth facing the unfamiliar feelings, and for her to express them openly, “Of course I do.”
“I-I love you too,” you squealed, bringing her in for a kiss that hardly worked since the two of you couldn’t stop smiling long enough for your lips to really touch. “Like, I love you so much!”
“Yeah?” she chuckled softly as you nodded with a glee to rival her own, “I love you so much too detka, more than I’ve ever loved anything.”
“That’s rude! I’m so much better than her,” you harshly rolled your eyes, “Welcome back Liho.”
Liho climbed up your back, disregarding your many grunts of pain, and as he settled on your shoulder he zeroed in on the new feline.
“Who is this, and why is she cuddling with my mother?” he tensed on your shoulder, and you held back a giggle to avoid obtaining his wrath.
“Liho, meet Ugroza,” Natasha lifted her up, and the black cat lifted his nose upwards, “Fitting.”
Natasha looked to you for clarity, you simply shook your head with a smile and she mirrored your action before leaning in to kiss you softly.
“Since when do you understand Russian?” You mused while following your lover out to the car, “It is a common word mother uses, so I don’t know what it is, just that it’s not good.”
“At least you’re aware that you’re a menace.”
Natasha scooped Liho up from your chest to nuzzle him gently, “Don’t worry, mama loves you both, and you’re gonna love Roza too.”
After ensuring both felines were buckled in tight Natasha rounded the car to ensure the same for you. She tugged to test the belt’s security, causing a warmth to flood through you, it was such a simple thing, but the way she cared for your safety above all was telling. It worked wonders erasing any remaining doubt you had that she didn’t really love you.
“I love you Natty,” she smiled over at you from the drivers seat, her hand fell atop of yours on the gear shift, “I will never tire of hearing it,” she put the car in drive, then brought your now conjoined hands to her lips to lay a gentle kiss to your knuckles, “I love you most detka.”
“Thank you for kidnapping me a year ago,” you genuinely relayed, but you were also wearing a silly smirk that made Natasha cackle rather loudly, “Thank you for letting me darling.”
——
3,061 Words
I don’t normally ask, but someone somewhere mentioned a part to this R where she and Nat get trapped in a Jurassic Park crossover, and I’m curious if anyone would want that 👀
❤️ Kaitlyn 😂
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