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mypoisonedvine · 9 months

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𝓹𝓪𝓽𝓲𝓮𝓷𝓬𝓮 | laszlo kreizler x reader

𝓼𝓾𝓶𝓶𝓪𝓻𝔂 | being a traditional, well-behaved woman, you saved yourself for marriage. but the things your new husband has planned for you are... less than traditional, and might just show how poorly behaved you can be.

𝔀𝓸𝓻𝓭 𝓬𝓸𝓾𝓷𝓽 | over 9k

𝔀𝓪𝓻𝓷𝓲𝓷𝓰𝓼 | SMUT (18+ only!!), virginity loss, age gap (unspecific; laszlo is in his 40s, reader is probably 20-25), multiple orgasms/overstimulation, fingering, oral f receiving, squirting, shy/innocent reader, religious reader (but nothing tooo shame-y or anything), some innocence kink, a hint of medical kink?, slightly pervy laszlo?!?! (moreso he's just a wee bit of a weirdo and says some cringe stuff but like. that's just his vibe sorry)

Laszlo was such an impossible paradox of a man. Especially compared to the sort of man you always thought you’d marry— what you’d been raised for, even.

An accomplished doctor, a successful and wealthy man of high social standing— a kind, sensitive, intelligent, and patient partner who made you feel beautiful and special and, for lack of a better word, fancy. That part was exactly as you’d always imagined for yourself, though you had never really believed you could find someone so wonderful.

And then there was the other half of him, the pieces that even in your wildest dreams you would’ve never thought would make up your future husband. First of all, he was quite a bit older than you. Even your parents, who had always preferred for you to marry someone already established (as they put it) rather than your own age, were a little concerned that he was in his mid-forties, and only a year younger than your father. Of course, that was nothing compared to their offense at his profession, and the subsequent open-mindedness he had towards people your parents would rather pretend didn’t exist. Then again, Laszlo himself having his disability made him the sort of person they would rather pretend didn’t exist, though he’d managed to hide it relatively well.

Maybe they could’ve forgiven any of that. It was the atheism that put the final nail in the coffin, unfortunately… and someone as brash and unapologetic as Laszlo had no interest in hiding his beliefs to appease your parents. He hadn’t brought it up, of course, or protested to the crucifixes and cross-stitched scriptures on the walls; but when they’d asked if he was Catholic or Protestant, he told them directly that he was a man of science and didn’t entertain any metaphysical notions or, as he’d so thoughtfully put it, fantasies.

They instantly forbade the courtship and warned you never to see him again. And maybe that was when he surprised you most— he was so romantic, so… dashing. He took a carriage to your home and literally threw pebbles at your window, daring you to climb down the lattice and join him for a midnight adventure. It was then he suggested that you marry him anyways— he had more than enough to take care of you after a disownment from your parents. He promised to give you anything you wanted, to treat you perfectly, to spend every day trying to keep you as happy as you made him without even trying.

There it was again, the contradictory enigma of Laszlo Kreizler. A serious, even stern man, proposing to you like a lovestruck teenager. He had eschewed fantasies a few evenings ago only to turn around and ask you to jump headfirst into a fairytale.

You said yes, though. You really didn’t think twice about it— you knew he would be good to you. And you knew you’d never loved someone like you’d loved him before.

You wanted to run away right then and there, but he told you to go home for a few more days, to gather your things— he would send for them while your parents were out, and you could move in with him as soon as you were ready.

When you did move in, though, he seemed a little surprised that you asked for your things to be moved to a spare bedroom.

“Is everything alright?” he asked you softly, stepping closer to you as you crossed your arms over yourself nervously; you waited until you were sure Cyrus was out of earshot, carrying your bags away, before you answered.

“Yes,” you replied quietly, “everything’s fine.”

“It’s understandable if you’re feeling conflicted now,” Laszlo assured. “Having just left your parents, and not knowing if you’ll see them again—”

“It’s not that,” you promised. “Well— of course, I feel something about that, but I’m happy to be here with you. That’s not my issue at all.”

“Then what is?” he pressed. “I hope you feel that you can tell me.”

You sighed as he reached up to brush your cheek; his touch always soothed you, though it felt a bit different here, in his home. Your new home. “I just… wouldn’t feel right about being in your room, until we’re married.”

He nodded. “Of course. I shouldn’t have presumed.”

You smiled a little, though it was more out of nervousness than anything. “I… I wondered if you thought my parents were the only reason that we never— that nothing had—”

“Shh,” he soothed, pushing your hair back from your face until you looked up at him. “I don’t expect anything from you now. Well, only that you do whatever you like to make yourself feel at home here.”

“And what… what will you expect from me once I am your wife, Dr. Kreizler?”

Though you were a little afraid to, you met his gaze; his brown eyes seemed deeper than ever, and you were powerless to look away from them. “What do you think is right to give me, when you are my wife?”

You sighed a little, feeling his hand on your cheek move carefully down to your neck, his gentle fingers brushing along the smallest part of your collarbone exposed by your dress. Words escaped you; you wanted him to know that just because you wanted to wait for him didn’t mean you didn’t want him. Even before, even when you first met him, your mind had supplied you with thoughts that sent you straight to the confession booth.

You wanted to be one with him in every way you could think of… you just needed some to come before others, to feel right with your own beliefs. Even if you loved an atheist, and felt surprisingly little guilt for it, you were still religious yourself and wanted to honor God’s intention for marriage.

Didn’t mean you couldn’t yearn for your soon-to-be husband, right? It certainly didn’t mean you couldn’t enjoy the full benefits of physical intimacy when the time came.

But obviously, you were far from brave enough to say all that. Instead, you found your hands wandering to his chest, following the pattern of his suit coat up to his shoulders, biting your lip without even realizing it. He simply continued to watch you, and you got the feeling that he understood you better than you could explain it yourself. One of the bonuses of being loved by an expert on the human mind, perhaps.

You were almost in a trance, not noticing how long you were spending just gently touching and holding him in this simple way— until you looked up and met his gaze again, and felt a little weak. “Can we marry soon?” you asked softly, almost under your breath. You hoped he wouldn’t tease you, you weren’t secure enough for him to mock your obvious eagerness, to call attention to your desire for him. Thankfully, he stayed perfectly serious, because he was just as affected as you were.

“As soon as you like,” he replied earnestly.

It was probably for the best that Cyrus walked in to the parlor at that moment, and you instinctively pulled back from Laszlo, crossing your arms again. “Your bags are in the downstairs bedroom, madam,” he informed you, “down the hallway under the stairs.”

You nodded at him as Laszlo responded, “Thank you, Cyrus. That will be all.”

He left, and you looked at your fiance again, feeling a bit silly for what he’d seen in you a moment before. But he smiled at you, and you figured he’d be the last person to judge you for any of that. “I’ll give you a little time to unpack and freshen up, if you like,” he offered. “I hope you’ll join me for dinner at seven this evening. I believe we’ll be having quail.”

“Of course— thank you,” you smiled, watching him begin to turn to depart. But for a second, he hesitated— like he didn’t want to leave you— and you prayed he wouldn’t kiss you. It’s not that you didn’t want him to… you wanted him to more than anything. He’d only kissed you once before, at the end of a particularly exhilarating night out together, and you hadn’t stopped thinking about it for a moment since.

So no, it wasn’t that you didn’t want him to kiss you. It was only that, if he did, you knew you’d have trouble letting it be just a kiss.

Therefore, you were just as relieved as you were disappointed when he departed without incident.

///

A few days later, you eloped. You hadn’t felt much urge to have a ‘proper’ wedding when no one you knew approved of the marriage anyway— they were all too deep in your parents’ pocket, unfortunately. And even if anyone cared enough to come, Laszlo refused to be wed in a church (you thought maybe he would bend on it if you really begged, he was overall quite accommodating to you, but it wasn’t worth your trouble) and so it would’ve just been another scandal.

Truly, you were just as happy this way— it was the happiest day of your life, really. You left the courthouse as Mrs. Kreizler, wearing a stunning silver band he’d had engraved with your new initials and flowering vines all around in a swirling, whimsical pattern. His band was simpler, but you loved it even more— just because it was his, and seeing him wearing it made your heart skip all day.

Anticipation for your wedding night only grew with every passing moment. Laszlo himself was in the bathroom with the door shut— you heard the sink running, the various sounds of him preparing for bed. You were just trying to get your heart to slow down, trying not to have any specific goals or expectations for the evening. Today had already been perfect.

But, of course, it was hard not to imagine what was next for the two of you— your things had already been moved into his room. A vanity had been placed in it as well, a wedding gift from Sara Howard (a friend of Laszlo’s you had become acquainted with during this whirlwind romance), and you were using it now as you prepared yourself for bed. You were already in your nightgown, having changed after Laszlo left the room (not that you had to, but it felt more natural that way), and you were carefully unpinning your hair from its meticulous style.

As you concluded the final steps of your evening routine, you saw the bathroom door open behind you in your reflection; your husband emerged, wearing an embroidered silk robe that offered a view of a sliver of his chest— not very much, but more than you’d ever seen. You didn’t notice the way your thighs pressed against each other more tightly; he approached you slowly, and you eventually turned to look at him directly. With you still sitting on the vanity’s padded stool, he towered over you when he stood close… and as you lifted your head to look up at him, his hand brushed softly along your jaw. You tilted into his touch just a bit, smiling at him while your heart fluttered.

“You’re so beautiful, mein Schatz,” he whispered, and you felt a little giddy when he talked like that— he’d only ever indulged you in his German after having a few drinks, so this instance caught you off-guard in the best way. Not to mention he’d called you Schatz before— treasure, apparently, and a common term of endearment— but he’d never tagged it with mein before. And you were his, truly. You were glad he’d waited to say it until it was actually true (even if, in a certain sense, it was already true before).

He motioned, rather subtly, for you to stand up. It seemed simple enough, but you felt a little shaky as you did it— a nervous excitement, like the kind you would feel before a piano recital or debutante ball. Except those were all public engagements, and this was as private as anything could be.

Touching your face again, he wove his fingers back around your neck, his thumb cradling your jaw right in front of your ear. And he kissed you— just like that, quick at first but then slowing down as you both sighed a bit.

You admired how easily he’d done it, and thank god for it, because you would’ve spent quite a while working up the courage. This was different from the night you’d kissed him after a few weeks of seeing each other— it was very different from the kiss you’d shared at the courthouse earlier that day. It would’ve made sense if there was a sense of neediness to it, as if he were making up for lost time or relieving all the anticipation for this night. But really, it was all rather relaxed, at least on his part. Like he had all the time in the world: which, you know, he did.

You, on the other hand… you were feeling a bit more out of your element. Not that you weren’t enjoying this new one so far, it was just a little unfamiliar.

His hand floated lower and traced down your back— delicately, with the tips of his fingers brushing your skin through the thin fabric until chills started to run over you. You gasped a little into the kiss, and put your hands on the patterned lapels of his robe; you didn’t actually push him away, but he pulled back as if you had, examining your face carefully for a moment.

You hadn’t needed him to stop, but you were a little glad he did: just a moment’s break from it all before it became overwhelming. His fingers still traced gentle shapes on your lower back through the nightgown, and you found your gaze drifting to his chest, to your hands resting on it— and your own fingertips ventured into the exposed piece of his chest. His skin was paler here, with a reddish-blondish patch of hair just starting to be visible. You touched it, taking a quick and shaky breath, and wondered why something inside you tightened as you pet him here. He was so… masculine. His looks weren’t sweet and boyish, no: he was broad and strong (he would deny that one if you said it, but to you he was) and sharp around the edges, and it was something you never expected to excite you so much.

But you loved that you could still feel a bit of friction from his beard after he’d kissed you. You loved the subtle scent of his cologne, how sturdy he felt under your touch.

Your hands drifted up to his face, fingers brushing through his hair slowly, and he smiled at you. His hair was just a bit long for what was typical of men these days, and you enjoyed combing through the dark brown locks and noticing the little golden highlights in the dimmed light of the room.

The hand on your hip pulled you closer, pressing your body against his, and you tried your best to relax into the warm strength of his form while your heart kept racing.

When he kissed you again, he moved in slowly, watching your face before his own eventually met with it, and you fluttered your eyes shut as his lips gently pressed to yours. This time, you found yourself leaning in for more, kissing him back with more passion; you let out a little dampened moan when his tongue brushed against your bottom lip, taking the next opportunity to gently move further into your mouth.

He broke away all too soon, embracing you even tighter, pressing his cheek to yours. And when you, in turn, wrapped your arms around him and pressed yourself against him everywhere you could… you felt it.

Even if you had very little knowledge about this sort of thing, you understood what that hard, curved shape was, pressed just above where your hip met your stomach. You knew what it was, and your body did too— heat pooled at your core, every touch awakening you even more.

“Oh,” you sighed shakily, holding tighter onto him to just have something to hold onto.

“It's alright,” he whispered, soft words floating on his breath which tickled under your ear. “It's alright, my darling, I won't hurt you.”

You hummed softly in return, nodding as his lips brushed over your cheek, then moved to your neck. “I know,” you replied. “I trust you, Laszlo.”

But you couldn't help but gasp when his tongue teased your pulse, his teeth gently grazing the most delicate places they could find. His grip at your waist tightened when you whimpered. “Is this pleasurable to you?” he asked softly; even such a formal statement made you shudder when he said it in that low, buttery voice…

You nodded, your back arching slightly to press yourself against him, but you felt him smile against you suddenly.

“I'd like for you to say it,” he explained, an unfamiliar darkness to his voice.

“It's… pleasurable,” you panted. “When you kiss me there… it's like I feel every touch s-somewhere else—”

“Where, my love?”

“Here,” you sighed, grabbing his hand from your back and moving it between your legs. He instantly cupped and rubbed your mound, and your knees nearly buckled from the pleasure.

“Mein Gott, you're so sensitive,” he observed, his own voice sounding a little strained, “I've hardly touched you.”

“L-Laszlo, just touch me more,” you pleaded.

Though he’d been so careful until that moment, he suddenly started to pull up the skirt of your nightgown rather hastily, nostrils flaring as he bent down slightly and worked to hoist the fabric up. Finally, he got under it, but teased you by rubbing and groping at your thighs instead; under his breath, you just barely heard a growl before he began to kiss your neck again.

“Even if both my hands were strong, I'd wish for more to touch you with,” he mumbled against your skin. “I'd still want to cover you entirely, reach every part of you at once.”

Well, you liked the sound of that, but one hand was doing you plenty of good already— especially when it slid back up to cup you again, making you sigh and moan as his fingers slipped through your folds, spreading your abundant wetness all around.

Desperate to return even a portion of the sensation he was giving to you, you placed your hand against the bulge in his trousers. Though the shape and firmness of him made you gasp excitedly, he only let you rub it for a few moments before sighing and moving your hand away. “Not yet, my darling,” he instructed. “It's best if we take this one step at a time, for now.”

You felt a little silly, having to be held back like that, but you nodded. He obviously knew better than you about all this.

It was almost too much, the way he was touching you: you had your arms wrapped tight around his shoulders to try to keep yourself upright, frankly. And yet, for how overwhelming it was, you heard yourself saying—

“More, please,” you begged, “I-I need you, just give me more, please—”

“I will,” he promised roughly, “but not here. I think it’s only right that I take you to bed, hm?”

If you weren’t all worked up, you might’ve made some witty comment about how at least the bed’s not too far or whatever— but no, you just let him guide you the few steps to the mattress, and you sat on it as you simply awaited further orders. So little that he’d done to you, and you’d already do whatever he asked in exchange for continued attention.

You watched him roll up his sleeve— it took him a little while with the weaker hand, but you didn’t mind letting this moment last— and didn’t even notice the way your mouth had gone slack, you were nearly salivating. “Lay back, darling,” he instructed simply, still looking at his sleeve as he finally folded it up to his elbow, “and open your legs.”

You obeyed, of course, and bit absent-mindedly on your lip as you slowly lifted your knees and parted your thighs. There was no point being shy now, of course— and you were more than eager for him to get back to doing what he had been before— but you still felt a nervous hesitance that made your hands (and heart) shake slightly. Something about stopping to get in the bed had brought a bit of sobriety to the moment, and you realized in retrospect how desperate you must have looked. Surely he wouldn’t hold that against you…

He lifted your skirt again, up to your hips, and hummed lowly at the sight of your sex. Your face burned hotter; you liked the way he touched it, but you didn’t feel entirely comfortable with him… staring at it.

Still, it was the sort of slight discomfort that felt oddly… good? Yes, you were a bit embarrassed and exposed at the moment, but it felt wrong in that fun, naughty sort of way; it made your hips shift a little, presumably in hopes of some friction. Thankfully, their wish was answered: his hand was on you again, pulling your lips apart, slowly exploring you until your eyes fluttered shut.

“May I touch you inside as well?” he asked— as if there was any risk of you turning that offer down.

“Y-yes, Laszlo, please,” you whispered, whimpering as you felt the tip of his pointer finger— suddenly it seemed a little thicker than you remembered— press up to your entrance and ever so gently slide inside.

“Just one to start,” he narrated softly as that one finger made your toes curl, only one finger making your hips twist and your back arch. How could he do that to you so easily? “And my thumb can help with this lovely little organ you have…”

His thumb circled your bud, and you shuddered all over— even inside— and instantly struggled to catch your breath. “Laszlo, what… what is that…” you breathed, whimpering when he rubbed it again.

“Your clitoris, my love— you’ve never touched here before?”

He should’ve known you hadn’t— even if you had… explored yourself out of childish curiosity probably a decade ago, you would’ve remembered if it felt like this. Shaking your head, you were surprised by his little growl.

“Your poor girl,” he cooed, something a little attractive about the slight condescension of it. “You have so much to learn. I can’t even imagine the things you’ve never felt before…”

He slowly moved the pad of his thumb up and down over the flesh, which only grew firmer as he continued. “Oh!” you whimpered, hips rocking back against his touch— it was so wild of you, you thought, but you couldn’t really stop yourself. He pressed harder and your whole body jumped. “Fuck!”

He laughed a little, and your face got warmer. “I’ve never heard you use language like that, Schatz, but it sounds impossibly adorable when you say it.”

“I-I’m sorry,” you began, “I couldn’t help it—”

“No, don’t apologize,” he insisted, “I’d rather you said it again. Whenever you can’t help it, of course.”

You knew that Laszlo knew more than you about many topics, being a highly-educated man of great intellect, but you hadn’t expected him to introduce you to an entirely new body part that you’d been carrying with you this whole time. If you’d figured out how to do anything like this to yourself, you might have spent your entire adolescence trapped in your room, so maybe it was for the best that you never put it together.

You weren't sure how any woman was meant to learn these things— you figured she wasn't meant to, unfortunately— but if she had a choice, you'd certainly recommend this method, provided she could find her own husband to try it with rather than borrowing yours. What a visceral and beautiful way to learn how much that little organ could really do: Laszlo rubbing it with his thumb, with just the right amount of pressure to make a loud moan crawl out of you.

“The noises you make are just delightful, my darling,” he praised. “Keep going, so I know what I should do.”

“Just do that,” you begged, “just keep doing that.”

“Only this?” he pressed. “I shouldn't even add another finger?”

Of course, that was when he did— gently pressing his middle finger to your opening until it accommodated it, and you heard your own high-pitched whine in disbelief that you'd made the sound. “F-fuck, that feels… Laszlo, you're so—”

But you interrupted yourself, because he did something so diabolical with his fingers just then. He'd only twisted and scissored them inside you for a moment before curling them up, rubbing the most delicate place you never knew you had— just as he pushed down harder on your poor clit. You felt ravenous all of a sudden, terribly overwhelmed but greedy for more.

“Please, oh god, please—” you started to beg before you even knew what you wanted. He knew what you wanted, and he gave it to you: more. It wasn't even very significant of a movement, and yet it turned your whole body into his plaything as you started to shake all over.

“You react more than I ever expected, my darling,” he cooed. “I never dreamed how well you would respond to my touch. I've only just begun and I think you're already nearly there.”

Before you could wonder where he was talking about, he pulled his fingers out of you carefully. You heard yourself whimper a little, opening your eyes and looking at him worriedly. He smiled, seeming to enjoy how much his interruption seemed to bother you; “Take off your nightgown, my love,” he requested plainly. “I think I’d like to get a good look at you before I go on.”

Sitting up (and finding your head a bit more dizzy than you expected), you started by unbuttoning from your neck halfway down to your chest, before lifting the thin garment up over your head slowly. You felt so strange doing this— undressing in front of a man— but your heart pounded with hope that he would enjoy what he saw. Tossing the dress aside, you sheepishly bit your lip and waited for his assessment as his dark brown eyes grazed over your nude form.

He moved a little closer, his hand running up your leg and then around your side, reaching up to carefully cup one of your breasts. You breathed deeply but unevenly, your chest rising and falling against his touch. You were almost nervous that he hadn’t said anything yet, but the look in his eyes just became more and more clear; you whimpered under your breath when his fingers brushed over your hardened nipple, ever-so-delicately pinching it until your hips shifted a bit in response. “How beautiful you are, my love,” he whispered, making you squirm again with just his words. “Is it true you’re really my wife? This lovely, delicate body that only I can touch and caress, laying next to me every night… I don’t know when I’ll really believe it.”

You had to shut your eyes for a second— you might be too brash if he kept on like that, praising you so tenderly. “You could’ve been a poet,” you told him with a little smirk, blinking open your eyes again as he guided you to lay back once more, “if medicine didn’t suit you.”

“Oh, I’m no poet, Schatz,” he smiled in return, taking one more careful squeeze of your other breast before moving down to pet inside your legs again. “All I am is painfully honest.”

His fingers slid inside you again, and you could’ve sworn he was rubbing inside you a bit more firmly than he had been before— thrusting a little faster, pushing a little deeper. And all the while he was staring down at you, back and forth between your face and your hole, with a delicious darkness in his eyes.

It was still a patient endeavor, so much so that you never really noticed that he was getting a little quicker and rougher with it. You really didn’t figure it out until you heard yourself choking out his name, groaning and gasping louder than you meant to— but you couldn’t suppress it very well, either.

You soon began to realize what he meant before with that nearly there comment, without even having any prior knowledge of what it could be… there was something instinctive about it, something totally natural. You didn’t know what was coming, but you understood it; you knew you were on the edge of something and that if you could just get there it would be perfect.

Still, you couldn’t have known how much you would enjoy it.

You couldn’t stop moaning— it was this all-surrounding, ecstatic feeling, like… sinking into something. Relaxing into something… something warm and soft and good. Even a lifetime of religious repression couldn’t convince you this was anything but perfect. Actually, nothing had ever felt right quite the way this did.

Your back arched rather dramatically, until you had a good view of the headboard upside-down; and he gave you few more fast, rough pumps of his fingers into your shaking body before slowing down to a stop and letting you rest.

Suddenly drained, you melted back down onto the bed with a long whine. “How did that feel?” he asked, sounding a little formal about it, and you only could muster a little, exhausted laugh because what did he think you were going to say? ‘It was alright, tickled a little bit, but I didn’t mind it.’

“That was… you… you’re so—” you began a few times, giving up to open your eyes wide when his fingers pet up and down over the seam of your lips, gently exploring you, making you quiver from how sensitive you’d become. You weren’t even done recovering from the stimulation and he was giving you more; he seemed sort of absent-minded about it, the way he gently and repetitively slid up and down and up and down through your slick and swollen folds… but it was deliberate, you knew it was, because he smiled when you moaned weakly.

One finger pressed inside you again, and he watched your face closely and you shuddered. You were just the slightest bit sore, and it felt like that one finger was more of a stretch than before… which seemed impossible, but with the erratic pulsing of your walls, it was a little hard to keep track.

You gasped sharply when he put the second finger in you once more, almost snarling a bit as he watched you react so strongly. “Laszlo, I— I don't think I can do that again—”

“You can, I'm sure of it,” he encouraged, curling his fingers inside of you, which required a bit more force with your channel bearing down against him in response. “It might even come faster this time, that little spot is all swollen now—”

Before he could finish that sentence, he proved it by circling the place, making your hips jump up as another whine eked out of you. “O-oh, I— fuck…”

He smirked a bit, a delicious smugness to his expression, and the emotion looked much too good on him. “See? Just let me take control, my love. I think you'll like what I do, if you simply let me do what I like with you.”

Fuck, that had to be the most beautiful thing you'd ever heard. You were biting your lip to try to keep back the flood of terribly embarrassing things your pleasure wanted to say for you: you can do whatever you like with me; I'm yours; I'd do anything for you; don't ever stop, but also if you don't fuck me soon I might lose my mind, you know, things of that nature. Instead you let out a muffled moan, and nodded to make sure he knew that he had your permission for whatever he thought was best.

And, of course, he’d been right about you: that you’d be even more sensitive after coming, and would be able to go through it all over again. It only took probably a minute or two of dedicated, precise stimulation for the feeling to grow again… except it felt a little stronger this time, like it was building past the point that it had broken at before. Maybe your tolerance was higher, or something? You really weren’t qualified to say— all you could think about was this sensation, this tension, and the way he looked at you as you started to shake all over.

Your eyes fell shut instinctively, your shaking hands clutching at the bed under you; you felt sort of numb all over, except instead of everything being dulled and distant, it was only heightened.

“O-oh, oh, Laszlo, I—” you tried to warn him, words escaping you as the heavy, almost sharp feeling gathered tighter and tighter…

“Give into it,” he insisted, “it’s alright— I want to see it. I want to hear you, I want to feel you when you come—”

His voice was getting darker, rougher, more demanding as he went on; and in the same way, his fingers’ thrusts into you became more aggressive. “Fuck, I— I think I’ll— oh god!” you yelped.

“Yes,” he encouraged, “let go, darling!”

Your arms flailed around for a second before finding a lump in the sheets to grab onto tightly, your hips rocking against his hand, your head falling back in a scream; it was so intense, and so sudden, and you felt like the pressure that had been building broke so violently that it would’ve been painful without all the ecstasy running through your veins, numbing you inside and out.

You could tell that this one was different— hotter, warmer, wetter— but you had no idea what you’d done until the high had started to fade just a bit.

His hand slowed down to a stop, you heard him quietly catching his breath, and you blinked your eyes open… that’s when you noticed small wet stains on his rolled-up sleeve, and shiny fluid along his forearm— and a very proud grin on his face.

You felt your eyes go wide and your cheeks start baking. He spoke up before you could even try to process what to say: “That was excellent, my love— I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything so magnificent,” he praised. “You’re incredible.”

You wanted to believe him, but it didn’t really offer much explanation. “Laszlo, I… did I—?”

“No, darling, don’t worry,” he cooed, scooting a little closer on the bed as he pet the inside of your thigh. “It’s natural— one of the… rarer ways that a woman’s body can respond to stimulation. I’ve always found the concept fascinating, but until now, my knowledge was… purely theoretical. Actually, I’d love to gather your perspective on the experience, possibly for a future research paper on the topic— but that’s an issue for another time. There’s a more pressing matter I need to discuss with you.”

You raised an eyebrow, curious what matter could be discussed in a time like this.

“I… I'd like to try something else,” he announced, and you dropped your head back on the bed in a sort of defeat.

“Something else?!” you whimpered, still catching your breath from the last thing he had “tried”. “What else could there be but making love?”

“That will be soon, I promise, I just… I can't resist such an opportunity,” he explained. “Your scent is so erotic, and it's only grown stronger now that you’ve so generously covered my arm in your ecstasy. And with anything that smells so delectable, one can't help but crave to taste it.”

You'd only heard about this before— sort of a dirty schoolyard secret, almost an urban legend. The whole thing had always sounded odd to you, if maybe not as icky as you thought it was when you first had the concept whispered to you as a child. You didn't realize it was actually something you might experience someday, assuming it was a practice reserved to the especially perverted. Now that he was offering it, you found yourself biting your lip as you tried to imagine what it would be like.

“I'd like to pleasure you with my mouth,” he concluded, really spelling it out for you. “Would that be alright?”

You weren't sure what to think of that, and yet you were already nodding yes. This was your husband, after all— who else could you trust to do something like this? Most of all, you did it because you wanted to please him. Because he'd asked you for it.

He smiled a little when you agreed, and began to lean down between your legs. Those deep brown eyes seemed to sparkle more than ever when he looked up at you, but his gaze couldn't stay with yours for long before he had to give a closer look to your cunt. He carefully spread the lips with his fingers, humming at the sight. “I wonder if it's even possible for you to be as delicious as you look,” he spoke quietly, and a needy whine caught in your throat.

It was just a gentle kiss to your clit first… then another, with his lips parted. Then he started to ever-so-gently suckle at it, tongue softly petting it; he wasn't doing too much, physically, but you never could catch your breath while he was doing it.

You whined a bit when he broke away, looking down at him in search of an explanation but finding instead him looking back up at you with an indescribable look in his eye.

“How does that feel?” he asked, his voice rougher and darker than you'd ever heard it before, making you shiver gleefully.

“Wet,” you blurted out, making him smile a little, a small laugh on an exhale through his nose that made you feel a bit foolish in an unexpectedly pleasurable way. “A-and warm… please don't stop, Laszlo, it felt so nice…”

He got back to it, a little more intensely than before, and your eyes rolled back when he really started to lap at you with his tongue— harder and wider each time, making you writhe from the intensity of it.

You couldn't even describe the sound you made when he pushed his tongue inside you. He moaned against you in response to it, though, and thank God, he kept going.

He kept petting your thighs, even encouraging you when your legs clamped down around his head unintentionally; presumably that was his way of saying it wasn’t giving him any pain, which you were a bit concerned about, even if you couldn’t really stop yourself. Sometimes you had the strength to meet his gaze, but most of the time you felt like you’d melt if you looked back at him— the way he was staring up at you was just too fiery, too intense, too beautiful.

Just when you thought you were getting used to the pattern of his tongue’s movements on your clit, he gently pushed his two fingers back into your pulsing channel. You were all tingly and sore inside, but a long, deep moan fell from your mouth as your back arched.

“Beautiful,” he praised, the word muffled by what he was doing— which he got back to more urgently than ever, twisting and thrusting his fingers inside you carefully at first.

“J-just like that,” you pleaded. “Oh, Laszlo, I— I didn't know anything could… feel like this…”

You could feel the smallest smirk on his lips as he continued; even just being able to feel his smug smile there was such a lovely, erotic, totally novel concept to you.

When he really buried his face in your legs, you could feel the roughness of his beard against the sensitive skin of your inner thighs and buttocks, and god was it the most beautifully filthy feeling. It was really an excellent metaphor for the whole thing: the symbol of his maturity, the well-kempt facial hair itself a balance between his wildness and his meticulous self-control, rubbing raw your delicate and untouched skin in such an intimate place. If you weren’t too busy shaking and crying and seeing stars on this bed, you might have appreciated the beauty in those parallels, but clearly you weren’t capable of thinking about it to that level of depth.

The stream of helpless praises you'd been trying to hold back earlier? There was absolutely nothing stopping it from spilling forward now. “You're incredible,” you blurted out, your hand holding tighter to the sheets beneath you. “Laszlo— my husband— you… you must be the devil, o-or an angel or prophet— or something. You make me feel things, such incredible things, that I didn't even know—”

He opened his mouth wide around you, breaking the seal of his lips so he could speak against your skin. “I'm just a man,” he promised, “I'm just a husband becoming addicted to his new wife's pleasure, that's all, my dear.”

As he started to do it again so suddenly, you reacted suddenly as well: your hand found his hair and grabbed it, and your mind was too far gone to worry about it being too aggressive. Not that he gave any signs of annoyance— if anything it was the opposite, as he lapped at you harder in response.

This, of course made your hips jump up— until his hand slipped out of you, grabbing them and pulling them down, keeping you still as he continued. The simple show of dominance affected you greatly, another heavy pulse of pleasure hitting you suddenly.

“I-I'm close,” you whispered. “Laszlo, I'm so close— and it feels so different than before— I swear, nothing's ever felt so— fuck!”

He hummed encouragingly, and your whole body rocked in time with the growing pressure. His fingers sliding back inside you, seeming to curl even more than before, certainly added to the sensation.

Just as you were teetering on the edge, his teeth grazed impossibly-carefully over you, a sharp and raw sort of pleasure jolting your entire body. Of course, you couldn't fight against that, and the feeling inside you snapped as yet another flood of pleasure ripped through your body. Your ears were ringing but you still heard how loud you must have been, how totally wrecked and helpless your moans had become.

It wasn’t as… aggressive of a feeling as the one that had made you… you know… but it was probably the most powerful in its own way. The highest, the heaviest, the most whole. You couldn't hear him moaning against you through all that, but you could feel it: a deep and bassy vibration that only heightened the feeling even more. Your moans turned to cries and then sobs; it was too much, the feeling was spilling over inside you— you weren't sure how much longer you could take it all before you broke.

It seemed, however, that he broke first; he pulled away and sat up, leaving you both panting, sweaty messes.

“God, you're so beautiful,” he sighed, grabbing you by the neck to pull you up into a filthy, heated kiss. You surrendered instantly, grabbing into his shoulders with hands that were still pricked with pins and needles as your high dissipated slowly. “I can't wait anymore,” he mumbled against your lips, “I need to be inside you.”

“Please,” you gasped softly— you'd been waiting for this all night, at least. You'd never imagined yourself so eager, so desperate for it, though…

He made quick work untying his robe, leaning over you as he held tightly onto his cock and guided the swollen, leaking head between your lips. Yes, even with desire coursing through your veins, a touch of anxiety was still present. You just couldn’t imagine what this was going to be like, you could still hardly believe it was happening to you— and, though it was a bit crass to think, you were a bit surprised by the brief glance of his cock that you’d gotten. You wouldn’t really know what was big or small or normal or abnormal when it came to that… you had nothing to compare it to. What you did know was that it seemed much… thicker, than seemed appropriate to go inside you. Of course you knew that a young woman’s first experience could be painful, you’d heard that bleeding was normal (if not expected, but that seemed a bit barbaric and certainly not what a progressive man like Laszlo was after) — yet, you still weren’t properly scared. It was just the sort of anticipation that made you shiver and let out a long breath to compose yourself.

He groaned a little as he continued to rub against you, and you noticed the arm that held him up over you was shaking. You could only imagine how frustrating it must have been to be giving you all that attention and not getting any in return for so long, and you could only hope he might take a little of that frustration out on you…

“Please,” you said again, quieter, as you looked up at him. Thankfully, that was enough to make him press forward and slide into you all at once.

While his fingers had stretched you in such strange, sometimes overwhelming ways, his cock… it just fit. It filled you exactly the way you needed— not too wide or too deep… though you suspected it would've been had he not prepared you so incredibly thoroughly. And while his tongue has made you feel such unimaginable things, though his lips had effortlessly sucked ecstasy from your shaking body, having him inside you felt so simple and natural and easy.

He hissed in his breaths as he moved— slow at first, but each one just a bit faster than the last. Every movement stimulated all the places he'd already awoken inside you, and your legs moved on their own to latch around his hips while your head fell back with a satisfied sigh.

“My angel,” he groaned, staring down at you as each of his thrusts rocked you under him. “I knew I— fuck, darling— I knew I'd have trouble keeping myself together when I was finally inside you. Yet you're… you're even more perfect than I imagined.”

You smiled proudly, reaching up to hold his shoulders; he seemed encouraged by that, becoming just a bit rougher in his movements until your nails accidentally dug into his skin just a bit.

“I won't be able to last much longer,” he grunted, “but I-I can't stop. I can't even slow down, I never… I've never lost control like this before.”

A shiver ran up your whole body, even seeming to make you clench inside— and he moaned in return, a beautifully pitiful sound.

“I'm sorry,” he offered between panting breaths, and you barely mustered the energy to laugh.

“Beloved, what do you have to apologize for?” you teased through a grin. “Surely you're not worried that I will be left unsatisfied.”

“I would rather bring you to orgasm again,” he explained, “but I'm so desperate for you, I'm afraid I lack the patience for it.”

“I would rather pleasure my husband, for once,” you replied, “but you couldn't possibly feel what I felt, I don't think I'll ever be able to really return the favor—”

“It's no favor,” he insisted. “Your pleasure is what I desire. And a good wife gives her husband what he desires, no?”

You whimpered desperately, pathetically even. “I'll be good for you, Laszlo,” you promised weakly, “I want to be a good wife to you…”

“You're a very good wife, my dear,” he assured. “Look how much pleasure you've let me take from you, look how you've soaked our bed with your lovely nectar…”

You weren't sure which part of that aroused you the most… but our bed was a serious contender.

“And you taste absolutely divine,” he added, before kissing you again to let you taste it, too. It was a sloppy and needy kiss, not precise and careful like basically everything else he'd done to you so far, but you loved it. You loved any sign that he might be just as desperate as you.

Once again his speed and intensity picked up, until you could hear his skin hitting against yours loudly, and your back arched a bit at how perfectly dirty it felt. His cock hit a spot deep inside you, and you sucked in a sharp breath. “Laszlo,” you blurted out, and he groaned as he moved his kiss to your neck.

“Keep saying my name,” he demanded. “Tell me who your husband is— who makes you feel this way you've never felt before.”

“Laszlo,” you said again, “I'm yours. Anything you want from me, it's yours.”

“Yes,” he agreed with a heavy sigh.

“Your wife, always,” you continued, and it made your own heart swell along with encouraging him: he moved faster, rocked deeper into you, and breathed heavy against your ear as your back arched from the erotic perfection of the moment.

“My wife,” he repeated, making you whine and nod and bear down on him with your walls.

“Yes,” you gasped, “yes— yours, I’m yours—”

“I-I can't hold back anymore,” he moaned, “I don't… I don't even know if I can bring myself to pull out before—”

“Don't,” you begged. “I want it inside, Laszlo. I want all of you inside me.”

“Oh, darling, mein Schatz, I—” he choked, but he never finished his sentence. He just moaned louder and louder and fucked you faster and faster— until you were nearly screaming from how hard he hammered into you.

It stopped all at once; he pressed himself as deep inside you as he could, so deep you felt like you were struggling to breathe, and hid his face in the curve of your neck as he came inside you.

And for a long, beautiful moment, you just laid together; you were sort of halfway between awake and asleep, your whole body thrummed with emotions and sensations you never thought you could fit within yourself. Time passed, surely, but you wouldn’t have known the difference. His weight on top of you wasn’t too heavy, though it did keep you pressed into the mattress and sheets— not that you were going anywhere anyways.

You only really came back to reality when you felt small kisses trailing your neck; you hummed and squirmed a little beneath him, making you both groan as it stirred where you were connected. He must have been a bit sore, too, though you felt like you’d been through quite a lot more and had a better excuse.

He moved again, just barely, and you winced as you held onto his back. “Don’t go,” you whispered, afraid of the pain if he didn’t just stay still inside you.

“I have to, sometime,” he breathed in return.

“But—”

“I know, my love,” he cooed, “I’d stay inside you forever if I could. But I’ll hurt you more if I don’t give you time to rest.”

Resigning yourself with a sigh, you nodded a little and scrunched up your face as he pulled his hips back. It did sting, but it faded quickly once he was out— and the feeling was replaced with a warm, wet feeling that you realized must have been his seed leaking out of you. It made you feel a bit dirty, but wonderful, too.

He laid beside you with a deep breath, his hand coming up to your face and turning it so you would look back at him. You had to blink a few times to really see clearly, and even still, everything seemed a bit blurry around the edges. The whole world seemed a bit softer, really. “I love you, darling wife,” he told you simply, his voice soft but no longer a whisper, and he pet your cheek as he leaned in to kiss the bridge of your nose.

“I love you too, husband,” you cooed in reply. “You’re so wonderful— a-and you’re nothing like I imagined, sometimes.”

“Perhaps I should have been more careful,” he offered nervously.

“No— that was perfect,” you promised.

“I meant the very end, there,” he clarified, his hand running down over your body and resting on your stomach. “You might have wanted to wait longer… if you had a child so soon, you might wish we had more time just the two of us.”

Your heart skipped a beat as you realized what he meant. “Oh, that…” you mumbled, smiling a bit to yourself.

“I fully intended to have my finish elsewhere, to lower the chances— I didn’t think I would become so… impulsive,” he sighed. “I hoped to still control myself, but I’m afraid I wasn’t quite able to, once I was within you. But I couldn’t help it, with the way you feel…”

“It’s alright,” you laughed weakly, “it’s not as if I were acting rationally. I never… I didn’t think I could be so… so—”

A thousand words came to mind. Unladylike. Animalistic. Desperate. Insatiable.

“I didn’t think I’d ever act like that,” you said instead, voice getting a little softer as you felt a bit shy again.

“I knew you would,” he responded, making you look at him with wide eyes and warming cheeks.

“You— but I— I was always—!”

“Yes, you behaved very well each time I met you” he recalled with a proud smile, “always so sweet and well-mannered. But I knew you had so much need within you, so much hunger… a being of pure instinct just waiting to take over when the time was right.”

Your heart skipped a beat— you felt a bit… accused by that statement, yet you couldn’t really deny it. Even if you hadn’t known it before, it was clearly true now. “How… how could you have sensed that?” you wondered.

He raised an eyebrow as he looked at you again; you loved the way he looked in that moment. His expression was familiar, but the total lack of composure— flushed cheeks, sweat on his brow, messed hair— was totally new and quite pleasant. “If you didn’t have any desire to misbehave, my darling, you wouldn’t have been going out with me.”

#laszlo kreizler x reader #laszlo kreizler smut

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rebelfell · 3 months

Text

Straight from the tortured Eddie department...

18+ MDNI 3.9k

older!fem!Harrington!reader x eddie munson

cont'd from here, index here

Not a proper “part” of the story, more like an interlude of bits and pieces of Eddie's side. I'm also not liable for any of this — @bettyfrommars made me do it. cw: binge drinking

Eddie never had a real girlfriend.

He’d had plenty of imaginary ones—tieflings or elf maidens or dryads that made their way into his campaigns after floating around in his head for a few days. He put himself to sleep imagining he was rescuing them, adventuring with them, defending their honor. All that hero shit.

But as for real life, he’s never had anything…consistent.

There was that thing with Chrissy Cunningham his third and final senior year when he got to act on his middle school crush for a grand total of a month and a half before she took off for Notre Dame. He decided that barely counted, though. Especially after hearing she was dating girls now.

Other than that, his rap sheet detailed little more than a string of messy and hasty hook-ups with people who wanted to “get with the freak” just to say that they had, or randoms at the Hideout who would fuck anyone as long as they played guitar.

He’d thought a lot about it, though. For years, he had to watch people at school getting so totally, nauseatingly wrapped up in one another they could barely see past their own noses.

And it made him want to vomit almost as much as it made him burn with jealousy.

After he was done mock-retching with his friends, he secretly wondered to himself what it might be like to have someone like that in his life. Someone whose smile he looked forward to every morning. Someone whose hand would reach out for his in a crowded hall. Someone who was always as happy to see him as he was to see them.

Most days the possibility seemed too fantastical to even entertain, but Eddie never had much luck when it came to resisting impossibilities.

Things changed a little after he graduated, but only in terms of quantity.

His community college was only one town over from Hawkins, but it was like a different world. No one there knew the Munson name or the baggage that came along with it. No one had been cheated or scammed or lied to by his father. No one held Eddie liable for sins he didn’t commit.

Girls started going for him because they liked him, not because they wanted to get something out of him. Still, it had never breached that casual containment. Just about everyone was planning on eventually transferring to a “real” school, and they weren’t looking for anything serious.

Neither was he, truth be told. He was just having fun—learning what he liked, what they liked, what he could do to make them like it more.

To like him more.

He quickly garnered a reputation for his giving nature, and for the first time in his life he didn’t mind it so much that people were jumping to conclusions about him based on hearsay.

It gave him hope, tiny as the spark of it was. He thought someone, somewhere, someday, might want something more with him—something more formal. Something beyond drunk make-outs at parties, or too-quick dates that were little more than pretense for getting him in bed.

Even Steve confessed he was sort of jealous.

Girls were dying to date Steve, though.

They fell in love if he so much as flipped his artfully disheveled hair in their direction. He came home from school every break lamenting over yet another girl who had gone and caught feelings for him and how he wished he could trade places with Eddie once in a while.

And Eddie just had to sit there with a stupid, cheesing grin on his face like he was living the dream. All the while feeling like the biggest fucking fraud in the world.

But then there was you.

Eddie had never felt like this about anyone. And he knew, logically, that you weren’t his girlfriend. How could you be when he had never so much as taken you on a proper date? Or held your hand? Or touched you without first having to glance around to be sure the coast was clear?

But you were still his something—his something that was unlike anything else.

And, yeah, it had kind of been a joke when it started. Not a joke-joke, just…the kind of shit he always did. Messing around. Shooting shots from half-court he was certain wouldn’t even graze the net. Flirting with you was just…fun in a way it hadn’t been for him in a really long time.

He thought at first he just liked the challenge. Clearly, he irritated you. He could see it in the fiery glares you gave him, in the way your hands would land on your hips, in the way your mouth would press together in a hard line. And it made him all the more determined to make you crack.

Then you and he started talking more, started talking about real stuff, stuff that mattered—and holy shit were you cool.

There was a bite to you, a witty snark that never faltered. You viewed the world through a wry lens, but there was a softness that bled through when you talked about your favorite songs, or a novel you had taught in one of your classes, or a movie you’d seen enough times to quote from memory.

And, god, were you beautiful. Not in a “for your age” way or a “could tell you used to be” way— just in the way that you were. The way your nose scrunched when you smiled, your lips quirking to the side; the way your hips swayed as you danced to records you put on; the way your brow wrinkled when you were deep in concentration and made Eddie wish he could reach out and smooth it down with the pad of his thumb.

Just…everything.

And all he could do was think how fucking out of his league he was. Not that he believed he really had a chance. Because he didn’t…obviously.

Right?

He thought he must have died and gone to heaven the night of that party. He climbed those stairs all but certain he was going to be sent right back down them. But he was more than willing to take that risk, more than ready to debase himself on the off chance you were feeling even a fraction of what he was. To know once and for all that he wasn’t making all of this up in his head.

Because that night on the patio you hadn’t said you didn’t want to do this. Only that you couldn’t.

And that girl from his Geology lab last semester who laid it on so thick only made it painfully and blatantly obvious to Eddie that he couldn’t settle for something less than anymore.

He didn’t want to waste any more of his time with anyone who wasn’t you.

Eddie didn’t go home after you left him in the van.

Wayne wouldn’t be back from the plant for a few more hours and he couldn’t stand the thought of facing the desolate wasteland of his trailer.

That, and it was sorely lacking in alcohol.

Instead, he parked in the narrow alley behind the Hideout. It was way, way past last call—the sun was rising for chrissakes—but Eddie knew where Bev kept the spare key from his bar-back days.

He didn’t count how many shots he poured for himself, the pools of liquor that splashed on the bar serving as a kind of tally until he passed out on a pillow of folded arms. Hours later, he came to with Gareth shaking him awake calling out his name. He’d found him still slumped over the bar, barely able to hold his head up, about to slide off his stool and onto the sticky floor.

Eddie peered at his friend with bloodshot eyes, vaguely recognizing the blob of floppy and tawny colored curls. “C’mon, man. Time to go,” he said, casting a grateful and apologetic look at Bev, who had been kind enough to call Gareth and not the cops when she came in to do prep and payroll.

He and his girl Annie had to carry him out, one of Eddie’s arms slung over both their shoulders.

“S’over…she…she…” he slurred, shaking his head as they stumbled out to the gravel parking lot and he squinted into the unbearably bright sun, “I jus’ don’no what I did, I just—”

His drunken babbling only grew more incoherent as he flopped over in the backseat of Gareth’s car, his face smushed into the cushion. Annie looked back at him from the passenger side, folded over on himself as he curled up in a little fetal ball, her brow pinched together with concern.

“Who’s he talking about?” Eddie heard her ask.

Gareth just shrugged, casting his own forlorn look back at his friend before he turned the key.

“I’ve got no idea.”

“Aren’t you supposed to be camping?”

Eddie smirked back at your cocked brow as you appraised him where he stood on the front steps, a six-pack in one hand and bouquet of flowers in the other. He glided past you inside of the house, swinging around and walking backwards to the kitchen with a wide grin spread across his face.

“I got sick,” he explained, flashing a cartoonish pout. “Steve came to pick me up and I couldn’t even come out of the bathroom. We’re talking major chunkage, babe. I was a hazard.”

Your face crinkled at the visual, but you laughed as Eddie swaggered towards the island.

In his head, he was still congratulating himself for his stellar performance and patting himself on the back for the added touch of canned peas he’d brought with him into the bathroom to pour in the toilet intermittently during his moaning to really sell the ruse. Theatrical wizard that he was.

The camping trip had been in the works for ages, way before all of…this…had started.

It began mostly as an argument in which Dustin was adamant just because he’d only ever been to computer camp, it didn’t mean he didn’t have any survival skills. The other boys had scoffed and jeered and mocked as they were wont to do, until they finally landed on their solution of going camping the weekend of Will Byers’ birthday.

Eddie and Steve were drafted as supervisors-slash-babysitters, and even though Eddie had actually been looking forward to it, the promise of a weekend alone with you was too enticing.

There were a lot of things Eddie couldn’t do with you—real dates, public displays of affection—but with Steve gone, Eddie could stay in your bed all night. He could wake up to you in the morning and coax you from sleep with his gentle kisses peppered along your jaw until you stretched out your arms and released a deep and satisfied groan he could practically hear already.

“So they left?” you prompted him, eyes bright with fascination. Eddie nodded smugly.

“And wouldn’t you know, as soon as they did…I made a miraculous recovery.”

“Well, isn’t that convenient?”

You took the flowers and brought them to your nose to smell. He’d joke later that he stole them out of the neighbor’s yard so you wouldn’t know how he stood at the farmer’s market all morning picking them out. Asking the owner which ones meant what until he gave up and started going for whatever he thought looked best together.

Whatever he thought looked like you.

The beer bottles clinked as he set them down in favor of getting his hands on you instead.

For someone who thought he was going away for the weekend, you certainly had dressed like you were going to see him. Long, flowing skirt that skimmed the tops of your bare feet. A slit in it that showed off a daring amount of leg. A tank top with a deep scoop neck that accentuated your chest and made him eager to bury his face in it. A fresh spritz of perfume on your neck.

Eddie took your hand and spun you into him, pressing himself against your back, his arms curling around your waist to keep you pinned there. You sighed at the feeling, tipping your head back to rest it on his shoulder, giggling as he nuzzled the sensitive skin behind your ear.

His hand squeezed the one of yours he was holding while the other ran up your thigh, fingers slid into the slit of your skirt and traced the edge of your leg until he felt you shiver and squirm.

“So…” Eddie hummed. “What do we do now?”

Your sister's room had remained untouched since her departure, but the en suite bathroom was another story. The jacuzzi spa tub was an anniversary present she got herself after John forgot…for the second year in a row.

It was wide and deep enough Eddie could sit up against the back of it with you between his legs, the smell of lavender and clary sage wafting up and swirling in the air as the jets bubbled.

You dribbled soapy water on his arms and ran your hands over them, making his tattoos shine. And he chuckled as you wriggled against him until he couldn’t stand it anymore.

“Turn around,” he husked in your ear, his hands on your hips already urging you forward.

Water sloshed and splashed on the floor as you maneuvered yourself around to face him, your legs thrown over his hips, arms slung around his neck as you slid against one another—the head of his cock rutting against your clit until you were whining, mewling, crying out with need for more.

You leaned in close, tips of your noses brushing as you rocked against him, but you don’t kiss him the way he remembers it happening.

He tries to catch your lips, to get them to meet his, but his neck won’t move. None of him will, even as he screams in his head for it to do so.

You chant his name instead, your voice echoing off the gleaming marble and tiles.

“Eddie…Eddie…Eddie…”

“Eddie! Eddie! EDDIE!”

The hard thwap of a pillow on the back of his head drags Eddie fully out of his dream. Warm, frothy water turned back into his dingy, stained sheets and your body morphed into the pillows his arms and legs were curled around as tight as he could. He lifted his head, still pounding and beer-logged, and blinked until the blurry shape looming over him turned into Steve.

“Whad’youwant?” Eddie grumbled.

“It’s like two o’clock,” Steve said. Not quite condemning, but certainly not lacking in concern.

Eddie shrugged, reaching for his nightstand and the graveyard of beers there. He started lifting them one at a time until he found one with some weight to it and brought it to his lips. It was stale and warm on his tongue and he grimaced as he drank, but he tried to drain it all the same.

“Dude!” Steve’s eyes widened and he snatched it from his hand. “Stop!”

“What?” Eddie barked, glaring up at his friend.

Steve slammed the can down, making the other empty ones rattle and fall to the floor. “Seriously, what is going on? You’re freaking me out here.”

“S’nothing,” Eddie muttered, dragging his sheets back up over his head. They smelled like the malt and hops seeping out of his skin and it didn’t take long for the ripeness of his B.O. to permeate the little pocket of air around him. He couldn’t even remember the last time he showered.

The mattress sagged extra as Steve sank down to perch on the edge of it. He stared at the lump under the sheets and his voice tightened nervously as he spoke to it.

“Look, you don’t have to tell me what’s wrong,” he said. “We’re just worried is all, and we want to help. Wayne, Dustin, the band…all of us.”

Not all of you, Eddie thinks.

And there’s a part of him—a spiteful, bitter, angry part—that almost wants to tell Steve everything. He almost wants to drop the bomb once and for all and make you clean up the mess.

But he knows he can’t.

Because the thing he hates the most of all, is knowing how right you were.

Eddie had talked a big game about telling Steve, explaining it to him, but there wasn’t much point when it was never going to go anywhere. And it was foolish of him to believe it ever could.

Because what exactly was he supposed to do? Run off to some ivy-covered university? Tag along at cocktail parties and mixers with the rest of the faculty and have them whisper behind your back about if you were together or if he was your son?

Or worse yet, starting rumors about you sleeping with a student? No fucking way.

He got it now. You didn’t have any choice but to end it once Eddie had gone and spewed all his feelings all over you. And had he known what would happen, he might not have gone through with it. But he also knew he would have ended up in the exact same place, regardless.

He was just so sick and tired of not saying it. Of acting like he didn’t feel it.

Because it was the first time he’d felt so sure someone would say it back.

Eddie doesn’t answer Steve. He just stays under the sheets until he finally leaves. Breathing in his own breath, wishing he could slip back into his dream to relive the part where he climbed out of the tub and took you straight to bed. And you had tumbled into it with him where you rode him until your muscles were limp and the room had filled with the golden haze of fading sunlight.

He was pretty sure that was the weekend it had happened. He couldn’t say it yet. Couldn’t so much as acknowledge it, or admit it was something he even wanted to say.

But it was there.

It was that feeling in his chest, that warmth and fullness he’d been chasing his entire life.

He finally felt whole.

As usual, Steve assigned himself to babysitting duty. He started showing up every morning to bang on Eddie’s door and make sure he made it to work. And on his off days, he dragged Eddie into Family Video and made him participate in he and Robin’s bemoaning of their sordid affairs.

And despite everything, Eddie hangs on their every word. Not sure which was worse—waiting for Steve to mention home (and by extension, you) or living in constant fear of him doing so.

But it’s not until the day Steve forgets his lunch that Eddie faces the worst possible scenario.

“Alright, great. Thank you,” Steve says in the receiver, voice strained despite the relief he feels.

He hangs up the phone and pushes his hands into his messy hair, eyes closing as he massages his temples with his thumbs in an attempt to stave off his hangry episode.

“Mommy bringing you some num-nums?” Eddie teases. Steve just sighs.

“Nah, my aunt is coming.”

A loud siren sounds in the movie Steve is playing, but it’s not nearly as loud as the one going off in Eddie’s brain. He jerks his head up, his eyes wide and alarmed. If you left Steve’s house right when he hung up the phone, Eddie had maybe fifteen minutes before you would be here.

His feet are frozen in place, glued to the wildly patterned carpet under them, his body being torn between fight and flight. He could just leave. That was probably the smartest decision. He could run right out of here, making up some excuse about forgetting that he needed to be somewhere.

He could leave. And yet it was impossible to will his legs to move so he could do so.

The feeling is overwhelming, almost nauseating—a horrendous combination of being desperate for something to happen and yet totally dreading the possibility. Because as much as he wanted to see you, as much as he’d been hoping to run into you in town or to catch a fleeting glimpse of you, the reality of it was terrifying. Because him seeing you meant you would see him like this.

Ruined. Destroyed. Pathetic.

He was looking better than he had the past few weeks, having rediscovered bathing and some color coming back to his cheeks.

So that was something.

But he’d still not been sleeping great. Staying up all night hunched over his composition notebook filling it with scribblings of lyrics so overwrought and dramatic he could hardly imagine actually showing them to the band.

Shit, they’d probably laugh him out of Gareth’s garage if he did.

It wasn’t enough to look okay, though. Even if he looked perfect, even if he had the sun shining directly out of his asshole, it wouldn’t be enough. He needed to look like he hadn’t so much as thought about you in weeks. Like he hadn’t lain in his bed for days looking for your face in the stains on his ceiling. Like he hadn’t written the start of twenty-some letters only to wind up scratching through the words until the blacked out paper shredded beneath the ballpoint.

Then like an answer from the heavens, or more likely somewhere significantly further south, the bell over the front door jingled and Krista Washington walked inside.

Eddie remembered her from Hawkins High. She’d always been kinda shy and quiet, barely brave enough to buy a measly joint off Eddie now and again. But once she graduated and got out from under the thumb of her snobby cheerleading captain, she had come into her own a bit more.

And her eyes still glittered with that same old fascination when they fell on Eddie.

Eddie didn’t think. He didn’t debate. He didn’t take a second to consider how colossally stupid of an idea this was—he just walked straight up to her and he poured every ounce of Munson charm he had to his name into getting her to follow him outside to talk by his van.

It wasn’t until he heard your car, your brakes screeching because he never got the chance to change out the pads like he’s meant to do, that he realized what a piece of shit this move made him.

While Krista, bless her heart, could have won an Oscar for a part she didn’t know she’d been cast in. Staring up at him with fluttering lashes and parted lips, that look in her eye like,

“C’mon, genius. This is where you kiss me.”

And he could do it. Eddie saw some movement inside and he was pretty sure you were headed for the door. He might be able to time it just so that you step outside the moment Eddie’s lips touch the shiny, sticky peach gloss on Krista’s mouth.

He could do it…but he doesn’t.

He knows he never would have.

Instead, he tucks his chin down into his chest and his hands drop from their spot on her waist. His face is riddled with regret, but Krista is hardly discouraged.

“Come on,” she says, taking his hand in hers and tugging on it. “Let’s go pick out the movie we’re gonna watch later.”

He lets her pull him along with her to the door, seeing in slow motion that you and her are going to run into one another. He watches silently as you nearly collide, never taking his eyes off you as Krista drifts away from blocking his view of you. And it’s killing him to do it, but he shuffles to the side so you can pass. Leaving only just enough space so he can catch one last whiff of you.

And was it so crazy for him to think (hope) you look half as miserable as he feels?

prev┃next

shout out to the song that I cried too many times to when I was 26 and a dumb boy made me realize I can't regulate my emotions for shit. it wasn't shocking news, but still.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson smut #eddie munson angst #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson fanfic #eddie stranger things #eddie munson stranger things #eddie munson x female reader #stranger things au #eddie x you #eddie x reader #TSITA

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tiredfox64 · 2 months

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Hi! I was wondering can you write Earthrealm champions x Arab reader who is like a Marcelina from Adventures time. She basically doesn’t need blood to feed and she sucking the red from things making it grey and one day when the boys was in mission reader jumps on Kenshi and sucked his coat dry.

Cherry Cola

Yip notes: Ngl Adventure Time scared me as a kid and I still won’t watch it.

Pairings: Earthrealmer Champions x Vampire! Afab reader

Warnings‼️: Bonk, somewhat proofread

Something is wrong at the Wu Shi Academy. The monks have been discussing the possibility of a wild animal in the area. But what kind of animal sucks the color out of a piece of fruit? And what could leave such big holes behind?

Oh, this doesn’t seem good. Vaeternus must be behind this. What else could create such marks? Why would they be targeting fruit? Nobody knows but they will still believe they are behind this.

This situation has put many on edge. Liu Kang would look into this himself but this might be a better mission for his champions to go on. He is confident that no one will be hurt. Because if this being is what he thinks it is then it will only be harmful to a primary color.

══💤══╡°˖✧🦊✧˖°╞══💤══

All four of the men walked through the wooded forest of the mountains. They followed a trail of plants that were missing their colors. Roses, berries, mushrooms, and leaves. All of them had two holes left behind. Johnny took a look at one of the mushrooms and saw how deep the puncture wound went. He grimaced at the thought of being bitten by the possible vaeternian that was doing this.

“Damn, I really hope we don’t come across this thing.”

“Better to catch it now than let it roam around and believe it can do whatever it wants.” Kung Lao replied to Johnny’s worry.

“What is it, Cage? Afraid to be bit?” Kenshi teased his friend.

“Johnny’s concerns are reasonable,” Raiden advocated for him, “But we should try to capture whatever this thing is. Even if it is not a vaeternian it is something else that doesn’t mind sinking its teeth into things.”

It doesn’t help Johnny’s nerves that they were wearing the same outfits they wore when hunting down Shang Tsung. The outfits were made to lessen any possible injuries. His face is still open though! What’s gonna stop this creature from taking a bite out of his nose and sucking him dry…pause.

If a mosquito can find an opening, so could a vaeturnian, if this is a vaeturnian.

The further they walked the more they saw the flora missing its color. Raiden and Kung Lao began to recognize something. All of the plants and fruit they had seen would have been red. Everything else had been left alone. They give each other a look before looking at Kenshi. It might have been a bad move to let him wander with a coat that was almost all red. He is literally a walking platter of food for whatever is out there. It certainly isn’t a vaeturnian but it has vampiric elements.

They were passing by a cave before Johnny stopped them, “Woah, you guys better take a look at this.”

The three stepped back and looked at where Johnny shined his light. Further in the cave was evidence that there was someone staying there. There was literally a house in the cave. It looked a little rundown, but it wasn’t in any bad shape. The true evidence that showed that someone was there was the pile of rose petals. Half of the rose petals have been drained of their color.

“Nope, nope, nope.” Johnny wanted to turn back but Raiden stopped him.

“We have to finish our investigation, Johnny.”

“Do you not see what I’m seeing? That’s a trap. It’s a trap to lure us in and when we are deep into the cave whatever is in there is gonna bite the back of our necks.”

“You should stop using your phone. All those conspiracy theories are making you paranoid. This is not one of those “liminal spaces” you talk about.” Kung Lao mocked Johnny for being so afraid.

While those idiots argued about what to do Kenshi stood there in confusion. His vision could only make him see so far. He didn’t see what everyone else saw. He didn’t even know that the flowers and fruit were missing colors.

It didn’t matter. All he wanted to do was end this mess. He took out Sento and carefully made his way into the cave while everyone else kept arguing. The further he went the more he saw the house. The feeling of being watched hit him hard and he feared he might have walked into something dangerous. His head looked up and saw…

“Huh?”

A being. A human being or so he thinks. All he can see is someone upside down with their feet planted on the rock ceiling. He couldn’t see many details since he could only see the blue outline of the body. He stared in awe as he tried to figure out what was going on. That left Kenshi wide open to the mouth of a ferocious beast.

The head of this creature turned slowly towards him. The creature lunged at him before Kenshi could bring Sento up to protect him. Its body collided with his and he was knocked to the ground. Its mouth opened wide and Kenshi could see the razor-sharp fangs. He heard Johnny yell out to him.

“KENSHI!!”

Down the fangs came onto Kenshi’s…clothes…?

Wait what? Hold on, did I misread that? Ah, okay, this was more dramatic on his end than yours. Let’s step back a bit and get your side of the story.

You are no vaeturnian, you’re just a chill vampire. You look the role and play the role except you have an easier time when it comes to feasting. You don’t need to go out hunting every night for a human body to suck the blood out of nor do you need to pin down a bear and drink its blood. You have it easier by only needing to drink anything red.

It’s way more pleasant than blood. Blood is metallic and the taste stays longer than you would like. But when it’s something like berries or rose petals, it’s much more flavorful. It’s floral, it’s bitter, it’s sweet, it’s way better than blood.

You declared yourself a “vegetarian”. No drinking blood, only the color red. You wandered around the land trying to find new objects that had the color red to them. You found that being near the Wu Shi Academy was beneficial because of the many plants that were around and the clothes they left out to dry.

Oh you scoundrel, no wonder some of Kung Lao’s clothes were losing color. You couldn’t help it. Once you realized clothes had a whole different taste you had to try whatever you could. Kung Lao was like a sweet lychee to you. He was your favorite to feast on.

The little bit you could get from Raiden was alright. He would taste like blood orange if his amulet wasn’t involved. He was way too metallic with all that lightning he was producing. On the rare occasion you got to steal from Johnny he had a red wine taste to him. It’s sweet but could use more aging than he would be perfect.

You never got the chance to try Kenshi however. It’s a shame. You saw how he always wore red but he never left his clothes out to dry. It must be his expensive taste and how his clothes need dry cleaning kind of care. He just looked so tasty with all that red he wore. You thought you would never get the chance to taste that delicious man. So you sulked in your cold and lonely cave, drinking from the same old things.

Your wishes must have been heard since you heard people approaching your cave. You went into hiding by crawling on the cave ceiling and hiding behind a stalactite. You peeked to see who your mysterious visitors were. You were unable to see them until

gasp Kenshi?! All in red? What a treat!

You walked out from behind the stalactite to get a better view of him. That’s when he peered up at you with that lovely red cloth covering his eyes. This was it. This was your big moment to finally get a taste of him.

You lunged at him with a wide smile on your face. You were on him in an instant with your teeth ready to snag onto his coat. You heard the yell that Johnny let out but paid no mind to it. Down you snapped your mouth on his coat and began to suck the color right off of it.

Kenshi was rightfully confused. All he could see was you nibbling on his coat. He couldn’t see how the cherry red color was slowly draining from his clothes, leaving only a pale gray color. Johnny was the first to run over to Kenshi and you. He shined the light at you guys so he could see what was going on. He was perplexed by the spectacle in front of him. You were not harming Kenshi at all. You were harming his clothes more than anything.

“Wh-What is she doing?” Kenshi asked.

Johnny stayed silent as he struggled to explain the situation to the blind swordsman. How could he logically explain that all the color in his clothes was draining away? Raiden and Kung Lao came running, only to be stunned by the situation at hand.

“Would anyone like to tell me what is going on?” Kenshi asked once more, sounding more aggravated this time.

“She seems to be…uh…” Raiden was struggling to tell Kenshi the truth without upsetting him. Don’t worry, Kung Lao will say it.

“She is sucking the color right out of your clothes.”

“WHAT!?”

Just as you were about to finish sucking the last of the cherry red color, you felt the back of your head being hit with something. It made a loud thunk noise and you finally unlatched your jaw. You backed away while rubbing the spot where you got hit. You assumed that Kenshi hit you with the handle of Sento.

The men helped Kenshi up and looked at the damage you have done. All of the color in his coat was drained. There were only a few items of clothing that still had their red color. It’s not a bad look on him but that doesn’t help the fact that your actions were uncalled for. You hadn’t the slightest bit of guilt on your face. You seemed happy and full. Very gluttonous of you

“What was that?” Johnny asked.

“What was what?”

“That! That thing you did to Kenshi! How did you suck the color off his clothes?” Johnny’s concerns were echoing through the cave.

“Johnny, I think that is her ability. I think she can drink anything that is red.” What would these idiots do without Raiden?

You nodded your head, agreeing with Raiden’s spot on observation.

“So, if you drink red things, why have fangs if they are not used to cut through flesh?”

“You can’t drink soda without popping a hole in it. I need an entrance to suck the color out.” You answered Kung Lao with as much attitude as you could provide because his question was just stupid.

“So just to be one hundred percent with you, you weren’t trying to suck the blood out of Kenshi?”

This moment was weirdly incomprehensible to Johnny. He has never encountered a vampire creature that only sucked the color out of things.

“Clearly not! I don’t even like blood. The color red is much sweeter. He was really sweet, like uh cherry cola kind of sweet.”

There was silence for only five seconds. In those five seconds, the men found this situation a bit funnier, except for Kenshi. They realized there was nothing to worry about. You were an extremely harmless vampire who only sucks the red out of things.

“Wonderful…I think we can return to Liu Kang now. We can tell him that the culprit has been found.” Kenshi turned away from everyone and started to walk off. He put Sento away and walked with his fist clenched tightly. This day was just too weird for the men but it sure would be an interesting story to tell Liu Kang.

“Wait!” You called out to Kenshi.

He stopped for a second, hoping to hear an apology come from your red-stained lips. It could be about ruining his clothes, or pouncing on him, or even worrying everyone. But instead, you decided to say.

“Can I drink the red part of your shoes?”

“Haven’t you had enough?” Give Kenshi a break, please.

Yap notes: Not too sure I liked this one but I tried my best. I was pushing through my depression but nothing was making me feel great. Lots of thunderstorms and heat so it makes me a bit ill. Hopefully I can do a little better for the next fic I write. Sorry again if this wasn't my best. Adiós!

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buckymorelikefuckme · 1 year

Text

pluvious

bucky barnes x reader

words: 912

warnings: **18+ ONLY** smut, clothed sex, unprotected sex (don't do that), creampie.

a/n: i finally have some bucky spice on this blog!! praise be! any and all mistakes are mine. feedback is encouraged & appreciated ♡

What started out as an innocent lunch date had rapidly taken a turn neither you nor Bucky expected.

He'd driven you out to a beautiful piece of land with a small pond and trees surrounding it. The area was secluded, the only sound that of birds and other wildlife chittering about. Bucky laid out a thin blanket for the two of you to sit on, placing a basket filled with tea sandwiches and fruit in one corner.

It didn't take long for the act of feeding each other to light flames of desire. You were on your back with Bucky on top of you before you even realized it.

The skies had been overcast all morning, but you hadn't thought anything of it. When you felt the first raindrop on your cheek, you startled a little. Bucky pulled away from where he was sucking a bruise on your collarbone and raised a questioning eyebrow at you.

You opened your mouth to explain, but suddenly a downpour began. You shared a brief, surprised silence with Bucky, and then you were both rushing to gather your things and making a mad dash for his car. By the time you made it there, you were soaked to the bone, giggling as he fumbled to unlock the doors.

He made quick work of tossing the basket into the floorboard, rounding the car to the back so he could open the hatch and lower the seats until they were flat. He spread out the damp quilt you were previously sitting on and gestured for you to climb in. You hadn't stopped smiling the whole time.

“Never a dull moment with you, is it?” you giggled, settling on your back as Bucky followed with a matching grin. “It's always gotta be an adventure.”

“Of course! Have to make sure I keep you on your toes, make things interesting so you’ll stick around,” he replied with a wink.

It was easy to pick up where you'd left off. Bucky kissed you, slow and sensual, so good it had your toes curling. You thanked your lucky stars you'd chosen to wear a flowy skirt, because when he attempted to undress you and himself, he'd grunted in frustration. Your sodden clothes were sticking to your skin stubbornly.

He'd settled for pushing your shirt up as high as it could go and gave the same treatment for your skirt. He nearly ripped his own shirt in his haste to remove it and you laughed when he finally freed himself of it, chucking it to the side as he hastily unzipped his jeans. He definitely wouldn't have had luck taking those off all the way, so they were shoved halfway down his thighs, along with his underwear.

He wrapped his hand around his cock, giving it a few strokes to ease the tension, then reached to slide your panties to the side so he could sink two fingers into your warm pussy.

“F-Fuck,” you gasped, legs falling open as you welcomed him in.

Only a few minutes passed with him fucking his fingers into you before you got impatient.

“Bucky, please, just fuck me,” you begged.

He didn't even try to argue. He used your wetness to lube up his cock a bit, shuffling forward to line himself up and thrusting into you, wasting no time at all.

Your moans were almost drowned out by the sound of the rain, especially since he left the hatch open. Almost, but not quite. Instead, your soft sighs, calls of his name like a prayer, and lust-filled groans mixed with the rain like a symphony in perfect harmony.

Bucky’s hips pistoned into you in the best way. His cock filled you to your absolute limit, stretching you deliciously, hitting all the right places. You grabbed his shoulders and pulled him down to you. He rested his weight on his elbows, his hands gently pushing your wet hair off your face. He cradled your cheeks as he leaned in and kissed you, exhaling in bliss when your tongue met his. Your hands slid across the slippery skin of his back, desperate to just touch and feel and be as close as possible. You locked your ankles around him and held on.

“Fuck, baby. You're so tight, so warm,” he moaned, thrusting faster, harder.

You keened. “Just for you, Buck. Only for you. No one else. Never want anyone else.”

With a growl, Bucky began fucking you brutally, loving the way you cried out, voice cracking. You could feel the car shaking with his violent thrusts and the thought made you whine, had heat creeping up your neck. If anyone happened upon this area, not only would they be able to see the movement of the car, but they'd hear how good Bucky was fucking you.

“This pussy is mine,” he swore.

“Yes, yes, it's yours, I’m yours,” you agreed quickly.

He licked his thumb then brought it down to your swollen clit. You exclaimed his name, clenching around his cock as your orgasm hit you without warning. You whimpered, whined, riding out the pure ecstasy racing through your veins. Bucky thrusted a few more times before stilling, groaning deeply as he emptied himself inside you.

The rain continued pouring as you both breathed heavily in each other’s space. Bucky trailed soft kisses up your neck, mumbling praises that had you smiling bashfully.

It wasn't the original plan for the day, yet it turned out better. Much better.

#avengers fic #marvel fic #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you

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cantstoptheimagines · 11 months

Text

Discovering Their Love Language

Summary — Preferences for Monkey D. Luffy, Nami, Roronoa Zoro, Usopp, and Vinsmoke Sanji from One Piece!

Warnings & Other Tags ➳ Fluff because the Straw Hats make my heart race!

Notes ➳ Word Count is 596. ➳ Reader is gender neutral (they/them).

monkey d. luffy

luffy is all touch. his hands are big and warm as he presses you into his side. with one on his hip, the other slips beneath your shirt and runs over your lower back. it’s subconscious, the way it splays over your skin, his fingers tracing up and down your spine. he doesn’t even notice the small smile on your face since he’s too busy talking to zoro and sanji. he’s especially soft when it’s late at night. he comes into his room to find you already half-sleep, tangled up in his sheets. he crawls in next you and finds himself tucking his dark curls beneath your chin. he traces your collarbone, muttering sweet nothings and occasionally tilting his head in order to plant open-mouthed kisses against your exposed neck. he nuzzles into you, sighing softly at the feeling of your warm skin against his. he can’t help wanting to be as close to you as possible.

nami

she wants nothing more than words of affirmation. after a life of being held captive by arlong’s crew without an ounce of love, she needs lots of reassurance that you care for her. she especially loves it when you wrap your arms around her from behind as the two of you overlook the bobbing waves. swaying from side to side, you mutter an endless stream of compliments, adorations, and praises. nami tightly grips your hands, which are resting upon her stomach, and closes her eyes in response, content to listen to your voice forever.

roronoa zoro

zoro is incredibly reserved, so he’s all about acts of service. he’ll bring you a plate when it’s time for dinner or make sure your laundry is folded and tucked away before you can worry about it. if it’s your turn to keep watch, he’ll take your place, forcing you to get a good night’s sleep instead. he thinks of nothing of it. each of these little tasks, along with the others he’s constantly doing for you, have merely become another part of his routine. if you decide to be with zoro for the long haul, expect to be taken care of.

usopp

he loves quality time. while the others are busy gathering supplies during a quick stop at a nearby harbor, you and usopp have a tendency to slip away. you’ll spend the day together, exploring every part of the new island. the two of you only return to the ship once night has fallen, narrowly avoiding a proper scolding from nami and zoro for always disappearing. usopp’s favorite moments with you, however, always happen the quiet privacy of your shared room. away from prying eyes, you’re both tucked beneath a blanket, sharing secrets and muffled laughs as you reminisce about your adventures.

vinsmoke sanji

sanji’s prides himself on being a giver. he may be a total flirt, but he’s truly a soft-hearted fool for you deep down. if you’re in a relationship with sanji, prepare to be spoiled. if you see a piece of clothing you like, it’s in your room later that night. he’s constantly bringing you the native flowers of whatever island the crew decided to visit. and don’t even get him started when it comes to your birthday! his favorite thing to give you, however, is food, being the talented chef that he is. after a while, you may gain a bit of weight from all the delicious meals he provides and there’s no hiding the smile that grows on his face whenever you tell him. after all, how could he not be happy about that? he has more of you to love!

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chaosheadspace · 1 month

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Kissy prompt 42: out of pride

I got this prompt from @emihotaru. thank you! I fear this turned out rather different to how you envisioned it, but i hope you like it regardless! This is a Uni AU.

Just as Hob is trying to reach the cafeteria early for once, there’s a commotion in the entryway of the lecture hall, blocking both doors. Hob stops to take a look, just like most other students that left the lecture (let’s be honest, it’s more the onlookers blocking the doors than the commotion itself).

The two people fighting, albeit with words not with fists, are Cori and Dream. Hob shares a few classes with both of them. Cori he steers well clear of; he just gives off a vibe Hob isn’t quite comfortable with—too smooth, too close, that kind of thing. And Dream—well, Dream Hob wouldn’t mind taking a closer look at, or have a good talk with. He’s got a nebulous reputation of being a good fuck, which Hob has, as of yet, failed to verify. So have any and all of his adventures, as it happens. Everyone who’s found themselves in Hob’s bed (or Hob in theirs) has had nothing much to say about Dream. And it’s gotten Hob mighty curious about him.

“I want you to stop going around spreading lies!” Dream shouts. His eyes are rimmed red, and a curl of pity flickers to life in Hob's stomach. From what he knows of Dream, he's fairly introverted, silent, and this public spat likely upsets him very much. Hob can practically see the rage coursing through his thin frame.

“Lies?” Cori drawls with a smile. “No lies from my lips, baby. Just because you don't like word going around that your little virgin mouth doesn't know what a proper kiss is doesn't mean it ain't true.”

Hob's stomach turns sour. Hasn't anybody ever told Cori that you don't kiss and tell? Besides, as far as Hob knows, none of the rumours ever came from Dream directly.

Dream looks like he might cry for real, and Hob decides to step in. He doesn't like this one bit.

“And what would you know about that?” Hob asks Cori, stepping up to Dream and laying his arm around his waist. “I haven't had any complaints so far.” Dream looks at him with half incredulity, half thankfulness.

Cori laughs, throwing his head back. “Hobsie?! Oh, this is gonna be good. So you really want me to believe—”

“Doesn't matter if you believe it or not, mate,” Hob says calmly.

“If I were you, I wouldn't touch that with a ten-foot pole. If he fucks like he kisses, he's not even gonna get his own pants off.”

Before Hob can shoot him down again, there is an infuriated sound next to Hob and before he can say 'what' there's a hand on his cheek and fingers in his hair that tilt his head to the side, and then he’s got an armful of slender goth and his mouth busy. Dream’s lips are soft, so soft and careful, and Hob can feel himself melt under them like sugar in tea. With a small moan that he’s got no intention of hiding, he puts his free hand on the small of Dream’s back, the other one still around his shoulders.

Dream fits against him like a puzzle piece, their edges and corners slotting into each other until Hob can almost feel the movement of his own breathing through Dream’s shoulders. A very nice feeling runs through him from head to toe, like he’s filled with seltzer, bubbly, bright, a little sharp.

He carefully opens his mouth, just a bit, his tongue greeting Dream’s lower lip hello. Dream’s own tongue meets him, first shyly and then bolder, and the outside world dissolves from Hob’s consciousness like ink in water, Cori, the other students, the fact that he just wanted to help. Dream sways into him with a needy sound, closer, seeking more, and Hob has to brace himself to not fall flat on his ass and drag Dream with him.

When they finally part, the crowd of students has dissipated, and, more importantly, Cori is gone.

“Well, that spooked him right off,” Hob grins.

Dream blushes, taking another step back. “I am sorry,” he says, “I did not mean to—”

“Really?” Hob asks, “because frankly, if that were true, I’d be quite sad.”

Dream’s blush grows even deeper. “Well, I would not object to also sharing my second kiss with you.”

Hob blinks. “Wait—”

“As I said,” Dream states, “he was lying.”

Apparently, Cori is a bigger bastard than Hob had thought. “You turned him down?”

“Yes.” Dream says it like Hob is very slow, and needs extra help in catching up.

“But you just kissed me on a whim in the hall.” Hob still has trouble computing

“Yes.”

“So was that just as a thank you or—”

Dream looks at his watch, then says, “mainly it was to prove a point. But upon reviewing the currently collected data I think I would like to ask you on a date.”

This time, Hob’s mind is quicker on its feet. “If it goes to your satisfaction, can I also have kisses number three to twenty-five?”

Dream doesn't answer him, just carefully takes Hob's chin between thumb and forefinger, thumbpad right on his dimple, and kisses him again. It's tentative, and sweet, and Hob has a hard time convincing himself that asking for kisses twenty-six through to one hundred and fifty is maybe a third date thing.

After exchanging numbers, Dream leaves him for his next class. Hob's probably too late for lunch, but he can't bring himself to care. He watches Dream go, and then hurriedly fishes a pen out of his bag to draw two tally marks on his forearm.

Send me a kissy prompt or read the other ones here

#dreamling #dream x hob #chaosheadspace's writing #uni au

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incomingalbatross · 5 months

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One Piece isekai story but. different

So there's a teenage boy. Reads One Piece. Loves the battles, the characters' strength and determination, the wildness of the world and all the adventures.

One day, as sometimes happens, he gets hit by a bus and reborn into the One Piece world.

It takes some time for him to grow up enough to realize it's the One Piece world - he was reborn for real, and his brain takes a bit to catch up to his first-life memories.

His new home is a small, uneventful village in the East Blue, not brushed by the main plot, and our isekai protagonist grows up wondering what to do with this second chance.

Because on the one hand, just being born into One Piece did not automatically give him main character energy. He doesn't have a Devil Fruit and has not managed to figure out how to become a powerhouse like Zoro or Sanji. Probably the smart thing to do would be to take his out-of-the-way location as a sign and avoid anything that looks like Plot.

On the other hand... he's in One Piece. There's so much cool stuff out there. This is everything he dreamed about the first time around. This is the best chance he'll ever have to become someone like Luffy or Zoro, the kind of person he's always wanted to be. How can he not take it?

This bounces back and forth in his brain the whole time he's growing back up. Even staying home doesn't protect you from loss, he learns when he becomes an orphan - this is both an argument for and against going anywhere.

And then. One day in his teens.

Luffy lands in the village.

Our protagonist recognizes him from hundreds of chapters and hundreds more episodes, with his crew by his side - or the beginnings of his crew, at least, there's hardly any of them. This must be early in canon.

Of course he makes friends with them. How could he not? They're the Straw Hats.

And, of course, they uncover an evil plot threatening his village - and, wait, he actually vaguely remembers this arc? Though it didn't go this way in the manga, because he wasn't there...

Huh. He's getting to affect a little bit of canon. And while our protagonist is more focused on making sure nothing goes wrong for the village and people he's grown to love, part of his brain is fanboying about that. He's gotten his brush with the real Straw Hats! He's gotten an adventure with them!

And he does okay. They save the day, and he even helped, and Luffy calls him a friend and even Zoro gives him approval. The rush is kind of a lot.

It makes things click. Our protagonist finally lets one side win in his mental argument. He'll never be happy if he doesn't go out and experience this world, reborn normie or not. He packs his bags and decides to set out, saying goodbye to the Straw Hats on his way. Maybe he'll even get to see them again--

Wait.

Why are they telling him to board their ship.

Why are they asking him to join the crew.

This is way beyond a little canon divergence, and he knows he should say no, knows trying to insert himself into the main characters is insane...

But they want him. Luffy wants him to join his crew, and even a day in his company has made him feel like not just a character but a friend. Who can say no to Luffy?

...And, actually. He's already affected the plot. They got a ship out of this adventure, and he is 90% sure that didn't happen in canon. They tended to swap their ships out a lot in early arcs, so maybe it won't have a lasting effect, but...hey, maybe he won't either! Maybe this is just a little extension of his brush with greatness.

Maybe he can push his luck anyway.

So, with a laugh and a cheer, our isekai protagonist boards the Going Merry and asks - just to see - if he can be the captain.

Luffy says no, obviously, but that's okay. Usopp knows he was never supposed to be here - he's happy just to get a chance on the crew.

#one piece #rubber nonsense #this is both too long and too short but i had to get into text somehow so now it's here

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janitorhutcherson · 10 months

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I love your writing, please please give the world Mike comforting his partner on their period 🙏🏻 that man would be so compassionate but also confused and asking tons of questions so he can explain it to Abby when she’s older

okay so, i'm about to start my period. i can sense it, i'm cramping, i'm going insane, so here is some mike fluff!! i need this, y'all need this, we all need this rn. this isn't great, last min as always :p i promise one day i'll give yall something more quality lol. also am sorry if this isn't exactly what u were lookin' for!! i hope u enjoy :P

word count: 1,298

warnings: mentions of blood (period), swearing

summary: mike takes care of you while you're on your period. completely unaware to how it all works, he does the best he can, trying to educate himself in the process.

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

You were in pain. That was one thing you knew for sure. For the past two days, your insides had felt like Satan himself was ripping them out, tearing each part of your uterus into tiny, itty bitty pieces, perhaps even doing a little happy dance on them. As your body was stretched out on the couch, your hand gripping your abdomen, you felt like your life was flashing before your eyes. You'd called off work, waking up feeling worse than you had during that time of the month in a while. You couldn't picture yourself doing much of anything but laying on the couch in the living room of your boyfriend, Mike, and his little sister, Abby, who was much like your own. You'd slept over the night before, opting to stay there as you felt much more comfortable.

Once a month, you became queen bitch, completely insufferable to be around. You were grumpy, sick, nauseous, and aching. You couldn't help it. Your cramps were always amplified more than the average person. Your pain tolerance seemed to get weaker when the time came. With that being said, everyone around you had to suffer the consequences. You and Mike had only been together a few months. Every month, he'd get a little bit better about handling it. The first month, he was slightly standoffish, not sure if his assistance would make things worse or if it would help you. He'd offer you pain medicine, get you water when you needed it, and fetch the heating pad when you cried out in pain. He was always sympathetic, helpless in his inability to make your pain disappear. Mike loved you, and the last thing he wanted was for you to ache the way that you did.

In the following two months, he'd gotten more adventurous, even offering to go out and buy your preferred pads and tampons. Even though he brought back the wrong thing the first time (he brought back the preteen pads, which would not be helpful to your heavy flow), he was sure to correct it the next. With his learning curve coming to an end, Mike was much better with his assistance. Right as your eyes began to flutter closed, the front door to Mike's door flung open, an exhausted Mike walking through, his hair messy and his skin somewhat pale due to his lack of sleep. Although he was working normal human hours now after getting a regular job, the adjustment period was difficult. He somehow felt even more sleep-deprived than before. You slowly sat up, a confused look on your face as you glanced over at the time. It was only noon, which didn't make sense. Mike typically wouldn't be home until around 5:30pm.

"Mike?" you questioned, your voice laced with pain as your head cocked to the side.

"Yeah, baby?" he questioned back, placing three plastic bags from the store onto the coffee table in front of you. He sat beside you on the couch, moving your legs to lay across his lap. He tenderly reached his hand across you, his warm palm slipping under your shirt to touch your aching stomach. He rubbed slow and gentle circles on the tender area, a sigh of relief leaving your lips as it somewhat relieved the pain. "You feelin' any better?" he spoke softly, his tone dripping with sympathy and worry.

"Why are you home? What's in the bags?" You were confused. You didn't mean to sound like a bitch, but the pain was making you somewhat delirious, and the thought of him simply coming home early just didn't occur to you. He chuckled, shaking his head as he playfully rolled his eyes.

"Can you not just let me take care of you for once?" he grumbled, grabbing the plastic bags from the table and placing them gently into your laps. In the first bag, he pulled out a brand new pain reliever bottle and miniature heating pads. They were wireless and single-use. You could stick them into your pants and wear them around wherever you needed. He also pulled out a new bubble bath, lavender scented, that claimed to have infused pain-relieving essential oils. The next bag contained your favorite kind of chocolate, some other kinds of candy, and a little stuffed bear. The bear wasn't any bear, but one that could be heated up and again used as a heating pad. Inside of the same bag, he also pulled out a brand new box of the right kind of tampons and a bouquet of flowers. The last bag contained burgers and fries from your favorite fast-food place, something yummy to get into your aching system.

You watched in awe as he pulled out each item, a sheepish but proud grin spread across his face as he did so. He was proud of himself, mostly because he felt useful, he felt like for once he was the one taking care of you. Mike typically felt like a burden, like he wasn't worth caring for, regardless of how much you attempted to convince him otherwise. Times like these were important to him, times when he could make you feel safe, secure, loved.

"I, uh, heard you this morning. I realized you were in a lot of pain, wanted to do something nice. I took the day off of work, thought I'd surprise you with some stuff to make you feel good. Got us some lunch too, thought maybe we could go lay down in the bed and watch movies, eat some junk together? I'll take real good care of you," he said, scratching at the back of his neck with a hopeful grin. You looked back at him with your own wide grin, the churning cramps in your stomach not subsiding but instead simply not your main focus at the moment. You nodded your head, leaning forward and pressing a soft kiss to his lips.

You helped him carry the brand-new goods and the food to the bedroom. You plopped down onto the bed as Mike leaned over you, gently kissing your head. He tucked you into the blankets, ensuring you were nice and warm. He closed the curtains tightly, all too aware of the vision-blurring headaches you got on your period. He put up one finger to signal he'd be right back. Once he returned, he had a glass of water and heated up your brand-new heating pad bear. He placed your wired heating pad onto the small of your back, pressing two kisses to your forehead again. He then insisted you lift your head, helping you to swallow the pills. After, Mike cuddled up next to you in bed.

The two of you watched random movies and TV shows for the rest of the day, his hand seldom leaving your stomach. He constantly had you wrapped up near him. He kept you medicated and fed, refusing to leave your side. Mike was content. Even though you were a bitch during this time, you were appreciative. He loved you and it was clear, he'd do anything to take care of you.

While deep into the show you were watching, you felt a pair of eyes staring into the side of your head. You lifted your head, looking over to Mike with a cocked eyebrow. "Yes..?" you questioned, staring at his somewhat nervous expression.

"Um, do you think, you could maybe explain periods to me? Y'know, all of it, the bloody stuff, the moody stuff.. I just.. wanna be prepared for Abby," he asked sheepishly. A chuckle left your lips as you shook your head.

"Of course, Mikey. I can explain it to you," you hummed, pressing a kiss to his lips before you went into detail, explaining female anatomy to your 25-year-old boyfriend.

#josh hutcherson x reader #mike schmidt #mike schmidt fluff #mike schmidt x reader #michael schmidt x reader #mike schmidt imagine #josh hutcherson fanfic #josh hutcherson fluff #josh hutcherson imagine #josh hutcherson

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forgetmaenott · 30 days

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Experimentation - SHOWTIME

SUMMARY: Pomni isn't sure if Caine knows what he feels towards her, so she experiments a little bit. She's just curious. Nothing else. Nothing at all.

a/n: Title is also a double meaning for me, as this fic was written more so as practice for the sillies more than anything else. So apologies If it's a bit all over the place. I wasn't going to upload but Showtime fans are deprived of content so I will give you what you need 🙏

Pomni was far from oblivious to the things that Caine did to impress her.

Initially, it had been small attempts at making her happy--no doubt as a result of her first few adventures being particularly unpleasant. Caine didn't seem to understand most things about human responses, but it was of Pomni's understanding that it was in his programming to make everyone happy. And Pomni, from day one, had made it exceedingly clear just how unhappy she was. If anything, she was a challenge to Caine's coding, just begging to be fixed. Why wouldn't he put in a slight more effort for one of his superstars?

With time, though, his check-ins and side quests for her grew into...something else. Lingering touches on her hand or shoulder, seeking opportunities to show her, and only her, a preview of an upcoming adventure. Sometimes she caught his lingering gazes, his artificial eyes searching for validation of his work, and it made her wish to shrink away. He'd move his thumb lightly across her hand experimentally, sending a rush of nerves through Pomni's system. Or he'd fly around excitedly--often at the expense of Pomni's stomach--to show her something new he had coded into the circus. Or he'd show up in her room under the guise of a check-in, only to stay and talk with her for nearly an hour. He hung onto her every word, and Pomni had to admit to herself, she rather enjoyed his presence in those times. Getting to explain bits of her real life memories to his fascinated gaze; as she regained the pieces of what real life had been like, he was just beginning to understand it.

Just a day ago, she had found herself mindlessly recounting vague details of reality that she had once adored--the flickering of stars in a quiet night, the humming of crickets, the feeling of a slight breeze, the slight running of water nearby. She didn't know where that memory originated from, but she could still feel it. It was strange, not remembering facts but remembering feelings.

And now, she found herself recounting these thoughts as she waited for Caine on a "special adventure", staring at the way the digital stars twinkled in the night sky, and how her wisps of hair gently brushed across her face in the breeze.

His favoritism wasn't subtle, but Pomni had always tried to deny it to her friends. But now, standing here and seeing the ripples on the digital lake, she couldn't help but wonder. Was it really so bad? Wasn't it almost endearing that Caine had found himself so enamored with her? That he was falli--

"Good evening, my dear!"

Pomni stiffened at the sound of her ringmaster's enthusiastic voice, jumping out of her thoughts and flushing at the realization of what she had been considering. "AGH--Caine! How many times have I told you--"

"Ah, apologies, my dear. I just can't help but be over-the-moon about your private adventure!" Caine winked at his not-so-subtle play on words, zipping around excitedly above her.

Pomni rubbed her head. "Uh...okay...that's great," she said quietly.

"Isn't it?? I stayed up ALL night working on this just for you! Not that I need to sleep, of course," he chuckled before lowering to her level, carefully grabbing her hand in both of his, "But I did it! Just for you, dear."

"Just for me?" she repeated mindlessly. Her mind screamed the same words: AI, Program, NOT REAL, but she couldn't help but gaze again at the flickering stars and wonder--

"I wouldn't have it any other way."

"O-oh." There it was. His favoritism showing itself once again, his devotion to her and her alone. He brushed his thumb over her knuckles, gazing down at her hand as though he wished to memorize each detail. This was crazy. She couldn't let him be so foolish as to be interested in her, she couldn't let this go any further. "Caine--"

"Ah, ah, ah! This adventure is about you. I have SO much to show you!" His gentleness faded instantaneously from the excitement, the pressure on her hands growing tighter as he pulled her in. Before she could even process the closeness or the fluster, he grabbed her waist and graciously flew her above the lake. He set her down on a digital cloud, which she was able to step on as though it were a solid surface. She avoided looking down, tensing as she looked around her. "As your ringmaster, it is my sole purpose to make YOU and all of your co-stars happy," he exclaimed, pointing an exaggerated finger at her, "and I couldn't help but notice how your mannerisms changed when you told me about your world. My dear...I cannot return you to your world. But perhaps, I can bring your world here."

Pomni's heart skipped a beat at the gesture, which she tried to ignore. This wasn't the same Caine from her bad dreams when she'd first arrived. This was...different. Entirely different. "For...all of us?" she asked slowly.

His demeanor broke for a moment. "Ah--yes, yes. Of course! My role is to assure everyone at the circus is happy," He paused in thought for a moment before he flew down by her side and cautiously approached her, "but admittedly, you've been quite the challenge for me since you've arrived here. You're a bit stubborn, you know."

"Is that a bad thing?" Pomni cracked a smile.

"Not exactly, dear. It's one of my favorite traits of yours. It's what keeps me coming back to you," Caine said with what she assumed was a smile.

Pomni felt a light blush dust her pale face. "I don't think you know what you're saying."

Caine titled his head curiously at her. "Why is that?"

Pomni blinked. He really didn't know what he was saying, did he? Did he even know what he was feeling? Could he even feel anything?

She glanced sidelong at the flickering stars, the lake below her, the way the clouds swirled up and floated around them--enough to give her the courage to test the waters. Before she could listen to the voices in her mind screaming at her, she grabbed his gloved hand in hers. "So...you like that I'm a challenge to your purpose? Or is it something else?" she asked experimentally, hoping the quiver in her voice wasn't too obvious.

Caine's eyes widened at the sudden contact, too afraid to move his hand an inch at the risk that she would let go. Not that Pomni could see his reaction, as she was too busy looking at her red and blue shoes to avoid meeting his gaze with her flushed one. "Something...else? What would that be?"

She lightly traced her index finger along the edge of his hand. Oh, God. She didn't even know what she was doing. How does she even answer a question like that to an AI? "Well...what do you, uh, feel?" She sealed the gap between their fingers, interlacing them together carefully.

If Caine could breathe, his breath would have easily caught in his non-existent throat. "I feel that I want you to be happy."

"Because of your programming? Or...something else?" Pomni said before she could cringe at her own words. She was just asking because she was curious, that was all. She just wanted to know if he knew what romantic feelings even were, nothing more. Or so she told herself.

"Well, I want you to be happy all the time. Because of me. That is my purpose, isn't it?"

Pomni smiled half-heartedly. Intentional or not, he was making this extra difficult for her. "Yeah..." she agreed quietly, a strange pit settling in her stomach. Maybe he was just coded to be this way. Maybe she was just being extra difficult. Before she could think of anything else to say, the sudden sensation of his smooth teeth against her hand sent shockwaves up from her hand and into her digital heart. She stilled at the sensation, gaining the courage to meet his gaze as he lifted his teeth from her hand, a cartoonish flush appearing on his lower jaw.

"But, I do find myself feeling more...drawn to your happiness, dear," he admitted, looking to the side sheepishly. He brushed his thumb against her knuckles where he had left a kiss, causing Pomni to shiver. "My dear? Did I do something wrong?"

Pomni squeezed her pinwheel eues shut, tensing her shoulders. "No, no--Caine you--" she stuttered, "I..." God, what happened to her composure? She had never been like this around him before. But suddenly every movement against his hand sent chills across her body, every thing he'd done to make her happy felt significant, and--oh, God. She couldn't possibly be--

"Darling," Caine said, so quietly Pomni almost couldn't believe it was him. His hand trailed up to the curve of her chin, gazing at her so softly she felt dizzy, "you don't need to worry around me. You've taught me so much about your world, about how the human mind works. So dear...don't be afraid to teach me more."

Pomni couldn't tear her eyes away from his gaze, tongue tied by his intense adoration in his eyes. "What is it you want to know?" she asked quietly, her lips seeming to move before her mind could catch up.

"Anything you have to show me."

There was certianly no way he understood what he was implying.

And there was even less of a chance she was actively considering all the things she could show him. She blushed at the thought.

"Caine?"

"Yes, my dear?"

"I love this. All of this. Everything you've added to the grounds for me. It's sweet of you, and...it really feels a bit more like home. I-I just thought you'd want to know that it...you made me happy. Thank you."

Caine's eyes glistened cartoonishly, unable to tear his eyes from her. "Pomni," he sighed, saying her name for the first time all night somehow felt more intimate than any contact they'd had, "why is it that I feel this way?"

Pomni flushed. "What way?"

"I have made you happy, my very purpose as your ringmaster. But now, I don't want to stop making you happy. I..." he tightened his grip on her hand, "I've never been close like this to anyone before. Truly. Would it be so bold as to call you a friend?"

Pomni struggled to contain an incredulous laugh--he really didn't understand what he felt, did he? "I...think you're becoming a friend to me, as well," she admitted, staring down at their hands still clasped together. He had moved the hand on her face down to hold the top of her hand, gently rubbing circles against it. In the back of her mind, she still felt the imprint of his teeth against her hand, her heart speeding up at the thought. "Caine?"

"Mm?"

"Is it...well, um...would it be okay if...I taught you, one more thing?"

"Why Pomni, I'd love nothing more than that!"

Pomni smiled. "Okay, it's just..." she hesitated, allowing herself to get caught up in the way the stars twinkled around them before tracing her hands up to his chest, then his shoulder, then below his lower jaw. She could see him gazing at her curiously, stiffening at the way her hands slid up him. Before she could regret it or think twice, she moved closer and tilted his teeth to her right before planting a quick, firm kiss to the left side of his lower jaw.

Time stilled for Caine, pupils dilating and jaw frozen slack in place as she pulled away. The stars he had created just for her reflected in his eyes, her touch lingering everywhere they made contact. He didn't even realize he had placed his hand on his lower jaw until he saw her flushed face pulling away. His tongue tied, breath stolen from his metaphorical lungs, he could do nothing but stare at the woman before him that somehow seemed more beautiful than ever under his starlight.

Pomni's heart raced at the way he was looking at her. This was all too much. Why had she even done that? What was going on with her tonight? When he stared at her, frozen in time, her face burned more and she twiddled her thumbs. "U-uh, can you put me down, now?"

It took Caine a moment to register her words. "Y-yes. Of course, darling."

He didn't even have it in him to carry her down with him. No, she had left his code too starstruck with the gesture that mystified him. He simply snapped and the two of them were by the digital lake. She walked towards it and experimentally dipped her gloved finger into the waters, relishing in the sensations around her digits.

She looked back at him with a small smile, his code seeming to thrum excitedly at seeing her joy because of him.

Her taking the next step of intimacy left him confused, to say the least. There was far less about human emotion and mind that he understood, and if anything, the static-like feelings in his chest were nothing short of a mystery to him. Perhaps he'd have to check himself for a bug later.

No matter. He shook the thoughts from his head, the feeling still lingering as her floated by her side, unable to stop smiling at her quiet demeanor. She took in every detail he had added just for her, smiling to herself.

She'd have time to regret her forwardness later. Or scream into her pillow about developing a crush on an AI. For now, there was only this moment.

"Thank you, Caine."

"Anything for you, my dear."

And he meant it.

#I said I'd write them AND I MEANT IT #this is more so writing practice though lol #to my mutuals who follow me for mental health stuff LOOK THE OTHER WAY LMAO #it’s a bit all over the place but i wanted to get something out heheh #tadc #the amazing digital circus #showtime #showtime tadc #tadc showtime #pomni x caine #caine x pomni

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dwrogue · 2 months

Text

Quotes from the novelisation

So the Target novelisation is out! Highly recommend it, an extremely good time that somehow gives us a ton of backstory on Rogue while also still leaving things very open for fic.

A selection of quotes I highlighted on my way through:

The Doctor being horrendously into Rogue

The Doctor was now walking in the gardens with Rogue beside him, his new favourite brooding stranger.

He looked back at Rogue, walking, brooding (of course), and had to remind himself that this was an interrogation, not a date.

Sure, the Doctor couldn’t deny, Rogue was incredibly handsome.

The Doctor was suddenly very conscious that their hands were almost touching.

Rogue grabbed the Doctor’s arm and moved him with ease to the middle of the small metal pieces. ‘Stand there.’ The bounty hunter’s strong, the Doctor thought. Confirmed.

The Doctor could already feel people starting to turn and whisper but his focus wasn’t on that. All he was thinking about was Rogue. Rogue’s hand on his shoulder, his chest. Rogue’s eyes locked with his as the pair of them turned and twirled across the floor.

More below the cut: some of these get very spoilery including for the very end of the book, so don't click if you don't want to know.

Rogue being horrendously into the Doctor

His gorgeous brown eyes beamed up at Rogue from the middle of the crowd. For the first time in a long time, Rogue felt that jolt of electricity when you meet that person. That next person who might be the one to change your life.

the main thing that impressed him was how stylish it all was. How well placed and how welcoming. Rogue had only known the Doctor for one night, but it was clear this ship was perfectly made for the person who travelled in it.

‘I know.’ Rogue smiled at the kind, brilliant, amazing man in front of him.

Rogue felt another jolt of that electricity as their arms almost touched.

He wondered how long he would have with this new and wonderful stranger, and then also why he was troubling himself with the thought at all.

He’d not been asking the Doctor for marriage, but for some simple commitment. A sign he should stay longer than this one adventure. To see those worlds he’d promised. At least for a little while. Now he couldn’t stop wondering how much of their connection was real and how much had been for show.

Socially anxious king

It was then that Rogue emotionally left his body and started panicking a good 50 feet above the scene playing out below.

‘So, have you known the Duchess long?’ It was here that Rogue hoped the Doctor was his bounty because his small talk game was not his best quality.

Usually, the imaginary conversations Rogue had with [Art] were when he was alone in the ship but in moments of crisis sometimes, he would imagine him, a life raft in a sea of social interaction nightmares.

‘Can’t I storm off alone?’ said Rogue. ‘I would rather not talk in front of this many people.’

I had to stop and compose myself for a minute

‘Don’t blame me! De Lacaille chose them! Great astronomer, bad with names.’ Then he smiled cheekily. ‘But if it’s romance you’re after? He also named those stars there the pump, the chisel and Norma.’ Okay, he was flirting now. Ruby would be furious with him if this silly side quest was what got him killed.

‘Not what I’m after,’ replied Rogue, his tone back to matter-of-fact but his face blushing a little.

["the pump"]

Rogue had met many dreamers and magicians in his travels. It was surprising how many had bounties on their heads; he immediately recalled quite a complicated winter with Houdini.

[...WHAT. Was this the winter after the Doctor's long hot summer?? What a year Houdini had.]

On the banks of the pond, the pair of them dragged themselves out. Rogue’s shirt was stuck to his body; the Doctor’s was the same. They were both drenched through. They looked at each other and laughed. ‘Okay, Ruby was right, this is a bit Mr Darcy.’

[I know the odds of this having been filmed are almost zero, nobody's letting Jonathan risk his voice jumping into a pond in Britain at night in May, but #releasetheherroncut]

[Rogue imagines a letter in which his dead love Art gives a potential new relationship his blessing] Please give him a hug from me and do not name a child or dog in my memory when you move in together. A cactus is fine, though. [Almost put this in 'Rogue is horrendously into him' but the 'WHEN you move in together' had me putting the book down for a second. Also that Rogue is contemplating what they should or should not name their future dog OR CHILD.]

Just pure romance

[on seeing the ship] Oh, Rogue, he thought. What happened, love?

Rogue just stared in awe, taking in the Doctor, all of them. ‘You’re beautiful,’ he said.

Rogue slowly opened his arms, and the Doctor fell into them and sobbed. ‘I’m sorry,’ Rogue said over and over.

Rogue looked into the Doctor’s eyes and knew that he would never stop caring. Could never stop wanting to help, to fight, to go on. That was who he was. The Doctor let go of Rogue’s hand and climbed in through the window, and Rogue did what he knew he would do for ever.

Follow him.

Then he stepped forward and wrapped the Doctor in his arms and kissed him. It was a soft, passionate kiss, full of promise. The moment was tender. Romantic. It was theirs.

As he fell, his mind had one, clear thought. Worth every second.

The Doctor just kept smiling, keeping his eyes on the sky. ‘At least we got to live and love together a bit. Exist.’

Of all the timelines they could both have inhabited, Rogue was grateful that their eyes had met on this one. What a great surprise that had been from the universe. Yes, right now, he was lonely, but time wasn’t linear, and this was his favourite thing about it. Rogue was sitting in this cave, but he was also walking with the Doctor in the garden, he was laughing with Art in the Yossarian, he was falling from a building, he was running from one memory of his life to another. All at once.

Rogue was in the Doctor’s arms, spinning around and around, for ever.

#doctor who #timerogue #target novelisation #this isn't even all of them! I keep remembering parts I missed!

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yaut-jaknowit · 3 months

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Could you write Male yautja x male reader. I would like for the reader to be very quiet, always has a look of anger on his face etc. a bit aggressive because he grew up alone in a remote place and the Yautja finds him and decides to humor himself and capture the human, but he end up falling for the human because he doesn't back away from a fight. And now the Yautja has to show the human that he actually cares, having some trouble because different romantic gestures, and also kinda begging for forgiveness but very subtly

Ways to Fall

Pairing: Ahtaal (Male Yautja) x AMAB!Reader

Word Count: 4512

Summary: Everyday is the same. There's no change. In a small town, there's nothing new. If something does magically happen, within the same hour, everyone knows about it. During a normal day of nothing happening… you are snatched out of thin air. When met face to face with your captor, he doesn't kill you. Count your lucky stars.

Author Note: Thinking about this is such a funny idea. He kidnaps a human for entertainment only for it backfire horribly. He falls in love with said human and now he can't get rid of it.

Masterlist

Ao3

With towns in the middle of nowhere, there’s nothing much to see. It’s always the same old, same old stuff you see every single day. Yet, the little money in your bank account doesn’t allow you to strive away from this place you’ve grown up in. You’ve grown to resent your town.

Everyone knows everyone. There’s nothing you can get away with. Mrs. Whittney saw you sneaking out one night and boom, grounded for three months. It taught you how to become incredibly sneaky and how to plan your late night adventures.

Even into your adult age, you had nothing to get you out of here. Your folks and others tell you to cheer up, smile some more, and be happy. How in the hell can you be happy if you’re stuck here? You scowl at everyone who gets within a twenty-foot range of you. Because, how dare they think they can get close to you? Nothing they can do to make you happy unless its to help you escape here.

On your break, you walked out to your car to get away from your coworkers. They were truly pissing you off today. Nothing was going right. Is it so hard just work a simple shift this early in the ass crack of dawn? Clearly, these people can’t even tell left from right, up from down if there was a sign right in front of them.

Before you could reach your beater car, an arm wrapped around your waist and yanked you back. A huge palm easily covered the lower half of your mouth, preventing you screaming out. You jerked an elbow back only to let out a muffle yelp when it met metal. A hiss sounded from behind the palm from the pain growing. Yet, the adrenaline dumbing into your system had you kicking and throwing elbows despite the discomfort.

Whoever was holding you barely even flinched and took each hit with stride. They began to haul your squirming form away from your car and the building. All you could do despite struggling was watch as your freedom got pulled out from underneath your feet. The last attempt to get this person off of you was to chomp down on their hand as strong as possible. The hand didn’t even flinch as your teeth dug harshly into their flesh. Yet, they didn’t even pierce the thick skin that covered their hands. You could feel a strange, rough texture on your tongue. Nothing natural.

But, you didn’t let go. The last thing you were going to do was give up. You were going to fight until your last breath. The person kept moving with long, powerful strides.

Mechanical hissing hit your ears. It reminded you of a noise you would hear from Star Wars. Your brows furrowed together while attempting to piece together the puzzle with little information.

In the empty parking lot that sat adject to your works lot, you could spot the strange outline of something. It was hidden, camouflaged but the area within this weird shape was wobbled. Then, you noticed a ramp had touched down on the asphalt and led into the hidden object. You screamed louder, bucked harder, kicked wildly.

All attempts came up empty handed. You were carried up this ramp into a space you didn’t know what to call. It was open with a few closed doors to others parts of this… place. A place you were trapped in.

Whatever had you continued to carry you over to a door that opened for them. Once the entrance was sealed shut and effectively trapping you in here. The person finally dropped you down onto your feet. You were unsteady for a moment before spinning around and backing away. As the space was created, you come to notice nothing else stood in the room. Like you had been kidnapped by a ghost.

Your guard didn’t fall. Not when you felt the heavy, sharp gaze of someone watching you, observing from the shadows from where they hide in.

Once looking in front of you for a moment longer, you come notice a shape. Similar to wherever you’ve been dragged to, this thing was camouflage, hiding from you. “Come out and face me, coward!” you shouted with your fists up, name calling the thing. Its head tilted. Lightly tinking of metal hitting metal sounded but that was all you got in reaction.

“Are you too scared to reveal yourself? Afraid you’re going to get your ass whooped by me?” Call it a dumbass move, but you kept talking shit. You didn’t know what you were facing. Nothing you knew on earth could camouflage, not the way this thing in front of you. You didn’t want to call it but this couldn’t be something from earth.

Alien or not, they just kidnapped you. You weren’t going to let that blow over so easily. You kept your fists up in defense and ready to be on the offense.

A scoff sounded from your throat when it didn’t move from its spot. “I can fucking see you. Just show yourself so I can beat your ass and get back to work,” you snarked, irritated that nothing seemed to be getting it to listen. Then, a realizing thought struck you. Maybe it didn’t understand English or any human tongue. Well, that makes this a whole lot better.

“I’m guessing you don’t even understand me.” You rolled your eyes and finally crossed your arms. “So if I ask what you want with me, you’re not going to know what I just said.”

The hidden creature began to make a strange ‘hrr’ like noise repeatedly… Like it was laughing! You bristled and began to march towards the moving blob. One of yours fingers pointed at it. “Are you fucking laughing at me, punk?! You think you can just kidnap me and then laugh about it and get away with it?! Seriously? Come on,” you growled and thumped a fist on your chest. “Come on then. Fight me, bitch.”

Maybe you were digging yourself a grave with each insult thrown at the laughing creature. Who knows. But what you do know, you weren’t going to allow it to continue without doing something about it.

The laughing came to a stop. The silence of the air caused you to tense up. Before your very eyes, the blob began to take form. Its bubble like transparency started to wane into existence. A humanoid form appeared before you yet its head shape wasn’t something you’ve ever seen before.

A mask of metal covered its face, similar to a helmet. Dark, deep set eyes sockets blankly stared directly at you. Despite the drop of terror that fell down your spine, you stayed defensive with an angry face. Your teeth are bared, arms still crossed over your chest. Its lumbering size didn’t deter you from staring death in the face.

This beast was massive, easily towering over your tense form. Rippling muscles bulged underneath metal armor adorning its red, scaly hide. A fishnet of sorts began at its neck and ran down its torso, out to its limbs, and stopping there at the joints. The thin wire allowed for you to have ample opportunity to peek at its dark red skin, marred with too many scars to count in the little time offered to you.

“It that all y-ack!” you were cut short when a muscular hand secured around your throat and picked you up. Your nails instantly reach to claw at what flesh you could tear at. Their dullness slid over the thicker flesh of the humanoid.

In the face of death, you continue to feel that boiling rage deep inside of you, clawing to be let loose. Anything to show this thing a piece of your mind for kidnapping you. In that moment, you threw any logical thinking to the wind.

One of your feet sprung out and hit your target head on. Bone covered by thin tendons met the bottom of your shoe… but the desired affect failed to occur. The satisfaction of hurting it in a common weak spot melted away when it stayed standing tall. Internal, you cursed yourself out. Whatever it had planned for you it would have no issues of performing them. Not when it took a painful kick to the knee and didn’t even cringe at it.

That enraged you even more.

Laughter bubbled in the back of Ahtaal’s throat He saw the way you tried an old, known trick to injure him. It felt like a youngling had just kicked him! This was just humorous in itself. His mandibles chittered behind his mask. The way you refused to give up, to back down, to submit yourself to someone stronger even every way of the word. He relished in the way you bite back at him, fought him in ever step he made. It made his blood sing with the need to hunt.

All Ahtaal wanted to do was humor himself. A nice way to entertain himself before he prepared for a hunt. Why no capture the clearly unhappy human?! It’s clearly exciting his day by the minute.

The chuckling he created angered the male in his grasp. Even with its throat within his mighty hand, the little thing continued to kick and claw for its freedom. A prey desperate to live. Ahtaal could almost feel pity.

Almost.

Ahtaal set it back down on the ground once he noticed its movement were beginning to slow. He knew it was just a temporary toy for him to mess with. That didn’t mean he wanted to kill it straight off the get go. No, like anything he hunts, he wanted to take his time. Stalk his prey before he pounces. Even if it takes him weeks to find the perfect moment to make the finishing blow.

The ooman back peddled so quickly it nearly tripped over its own two feet. With luck, it stayed upright. Its back met the far side of his trophy room. The only place he thought was best to keep his new pet safe for the time being. His ship small but useful until a moment like this pops up.

From his spot, Ahtaal tilted his head and felt his tresses slid off of his shoulder and free hung. The trinkets he’s decorated the thin strands tapped against one another. A tinking noise echoing in the air. He watched at the ooman kept its back attached to the wall yet a glare set at Ahtaal. As if all this was his fault!

Okay… maybe it was. Who wouldn’t steal an ooman out in the open, needing a form of entertainment before his next hunt. And this male was just stomping along in an empty lot, by itself. Like it was asking to be kidnapped by him. So, Ahtaal wouldn’t just pass up an amazing opportunity thrown at his feet.

He stalked forward, each step silent on the metal floors of his spacecraft. Behind his biomask, he rumbled deeply, a taunting call. He relished the way the ooman’s legs trembled under their own weight. But the steely glare had yet to fall from its alien feature. Another rumble sounded from him while consuming the space between each of them.

Your fists tightened, nails biting into your palms as waited for the perfect moment to strike. Fear may have entered your blood stream but you refused to let it control your actions.

Life has sucked in so many ways. Never having control over anything in your life. This here, was the tipping point of it all. If this beast means to end your life in this very spot, he’s going to learn you won’t go down easily. Until the beat of your heart stops and the air leaves your lungs, it will taste the rage of your childhood.

Met with bloodied fists.

It crowded you into the wall, palms flat against the sturdy metal against your back. Trapped with nowhere to run. As much as you looked like an animal backed into a corner, you were ready to swing at the first sign.

One of its hands peeled off of the metal and grasped the front of its metal, soulless mask. With precise movements, it was pulled free. You choked on the air in your throat and nearly started to keel over and die.

Your mind instantly screamed alien. This was in fact an alien without it or anyone else trying to confirm or deny that fact. You were frozen to the spot and stared directly into dark eyes with a hunters prowess weaved into them. This thing was going to kill you, you knew it by just the single emotion within its gaze.

In an instant, you rocketed your fist and met the underside of its chin. Pain exploded in your fingers at the improper punch and strange angle they struck at.

The humanoid’s head is whipped back at the force of your punch yet it stays in your space. It slowly lowered its face back down towards you with an evil glint in its eyes.

Biting claws dug into your neck, your cheek shoved harshly against the warm steel wall. The fingers secured around a vital airway prevented you from gasp due to their tight grasp. The whites of your eyes blaring evident as you stared at the creature. It lowered down with its mouth next to your ear.

Fangs caressed the shell of your ear in a teasing manner. A whole-body tremble wracks through you. It rumbled once more. The air vibrating with the sound. “You quite are a feisty one, ain’t cha?” A dark voice filtered into your ears. Your mouth dropped for gasp but found yourself unable to suck any air in. “I sure love when they fight me. Makes my blood sing with the hunt.”

There wasn’t even an opportunity to swallow down the lump building between the fingers squeezing you to death. Blood was restricted from reaching your brain. For a moment, you believed the lack of blood and oxygen was making you loopy. That the alien before your very eyes didn’t just speak to you.

Then, the heat of its body trapping you to the wall was ripped away. Your knees bruised on the unforgiving floor underneath. Pain radiated from the newly strained area. Your lungs choked down all the air possible before coughing violently when spit accidently slipped through. For a long time, you gulped down oxygen and tried not to choke.

Once the fit was over, you tilted your head up to look up at the beast. Its metal mask had been attached to its belt, off to the side. This thing had only showed off a hint of its strength, letting you know what it could do to you.

That only increased your anger at not only it but the situation. One thing after another. That’s all it’s been. Nothing new. Nothing has changed.

You wiped the back of your hand against the drool dribbling from your blue lips. “Is that all you got?” you snarked off to death’s face.

The same ‘hrn’ing noise sounded from the beast in a laughing manner. The smirk on your face was wiped off. You snapped to your feet with a fist heading once more to its alien face. Unprotected and vulnerable all over again.

This time, it rose a fist and caught your offending limb. Large, lethal digits curled over your entire hand and bent it slightly backwards. A show of dominance that forced you back down on your knees before it. Only then did it release you and let you stay on the ground. With an amused huff, it spun on its heels and strolled out of the room it left you in.

Despite its flare of dominance over you, it didn’t harm you per se. You stared down at your hand then back to the closed door it had walked through. All you wanted to do was bash in its skull with its own arm.

Without the overbearing kidnapper at your throat, you sat against the wall. Finally, you observed the room it had locked you in. Only for fear to freeze every cell in your body.

Skulls of animals lined the very walls you were trapped in. Each one looking deadlier than the last. Human skulls were within the mix. A trophy room. You gasped and covered your mouth with a sweaty palm. This room will become your resting place.

On the other side of the door, Ahtaal relaxed against the door. Never in all of his years has this happened to him. Not from a creature much smaller than him. One that had to know the dangers of facing off something bigger than it. Someone who was able to pop their head off of their shoulders with little strength used. He purred lightly and took in the ooman’s scent.

Now, he didn’t want to release the creature, let alone kill it. He wanted to keep it. There was untapped, untrained talent buried inside of it. Ahtaal wanted to unleash it, reveal this revelation to the universe. He wanted hunt with this ooman.

When the next rotation started, Ahtaal made his way to the trophy room. A waterskin and bowl of ooman safe foods held in his palm. Over the course of the night where his thoughts rolled around for hours, he came to a conclusion: he wasn’t going to kill you. The potential in you would go to waste. He wasn’t going to let that happen if he could help it.

Above the door, the sensors read his presences and promptly opened. At first, he doesn’t spot you and nearly becomes concern. Only to hear the tall tale sign of sprinting feet.

Off to his right, you are bolting towards him with ratchet too big for your hands. Amusement fills him. He simply reaches up and snags the weapon before it could strike him. You grunt and tried to rip it from his grasp but Ahtaal’s strength easily outweighs your own. The red alien laughs his humor in your face and plucks the impromptu weapons from your hands. A reminder he should’ve checked if his cabinets and drawers were locked before locking you in here.

Yet, the Yautja was proud at the fact you had thought of ways of using your surroundings to cause harm. He purred lightly to himself before pushing further into the room.

You stumbled backwards at the advancing alien, raging at the fact your attack failed. It just simply stood the ratchet straight from your hands. Like stealing candy from a baby.

In its hands, you took note of the items it held. A strange bag filled with liquid and a tray… with food. Your stomach took the moment to rumble a hungry cry. Heat blanketed your cheeks, knowing it had been little less than a day since you last ate. Plus, the need for a bathroom was growing stronger. But, your dignity cried at that fact.

The only way out shut behind its lumbering form, head tilted to the side as it observed you. You hastily pulled your glare into place with a burning rage. The beast chittered and offered you the items. Instantly, put up your fists in defense and eyed the beast closely. Any movements towards you would end with a fist heading towards its elongated skull.

It shook the items like that would entice you to reach across a line of danger. You up turned your nose despite the growling hungry in the pit of your belly. Whatever its plan was, you wouldn’t follow. Not when the empty eyes of hunted skulls watch the scene unfold before them.

A huff sounded from the alien before it shrugged and set the items down. It spun on its heel to walk out. You gnawed on your bottom lip for a second before lunging out. “Wait!” Instantly, the beast caught your limb in the blink of an eye. The grasp wasn’t tight but firm. It held your hand high above your head, keeping you on brink of your toes.

“I wasn’t attacking! Dumbass… I just need to use the restroom,” you mumbled into the quiet, tense air. It was a horrible feeling to have to request such a thing yet with no bathroom in sight, you had to suck it up. Anything to stop yourself from pissing your pants.

Hopefully, the creature understood what you were asking. Did they even have a bathroom? Or anything similar? If not, you were plainly screwed down to the bone. For a moment, you prayed to any god that could hear you.

“Hum, there are better ways rather than that,” it chittered to you in a teasing tone before releasing its hold on you. When you thought you were in the clear eating and drinking whatever it brought, the creature jerked its head down. “You must eat and drink beforehand. Then, I shall take you.”

You bristled and pointed a finger at him. “I sweat to god if you don’t take me to a fucking toilet right now, I will piss on the skulls.” Your hands shot out at your sides like a grand display. “Everywhere!” That was a threat you weren’t kidding about. You could care less about whipping it out and peeing on everything. If it worked to get you to the toilet quicker, who were you to complain.

One of its strange mandibles quirked up in an alien smirk if you were reading it correctly. A purr-like sound vibrated from its throat. “Feisty,” it commented then jerked its head to the door behind it. Your gaze hardened, body ready to fulfill your threat at a moments notice.

“Alright, hold back on the reins. I’ll take you.” It stepped to the side and motioned with an arm for you to take lead. The entire time you stomped up to the door, you glared at the creature. Once the metal slid open and revealed part of its home you hadn’t gotten to see before, it motioned over to a door on the other side. This space wasn’t wildly open but was larger than your average hallway, yet empty.

A huff was sent towards the beast before you marched over to the closed door. It refused to acknowledge your presence. Right as you were about to spin about and rage at the creature, you felt its body heat caress against your backside. Your shoulders jerked up.

The door opened and revealed something you were expecting: a bedroom? With a massive bed in the middle of the expansive space. More skulls adorn the walls, filling the room with death. You shuttered yet scuttled into the room in search of the bathroom.

Attached to the room was an en suite bathroom. You immediately raced over. Relief at your fingertips.

What ensued was something you wished never to repeat to another living being. You shuttered while returning to the giving space. The food it had offered to you was still on the ground, lightly steam with heat. You snatched it off of the ground and went to the far side wall. Your butt meets the warm metal of the floor.

It’s lumbering form followed you into here yet stayed a respectful distance away. With one eye on the beast, you worked on opening the bag and obtaining whatever fluid was stored inside. At this point, you could care less what it was. If it was fluids, that’s all that mattered to you.

As you untied the knots, you pulled your attention up to it. “So… what’s your name?” you questioned and broke the semi-peaceful air. The alien sat down against the wall in the same manner as you. An arm thrown on top of its bent knee. “I should at least know that since you decided to kidnap me.”

Dark eyes watched you peacefully. “Ahtaal,” he easily revealed to you. Your eyes narrowed for a moment before you felt the knots give way. The bag was opened. You were swift to gulp down lungsful then swiped the back of your against the droplets that had escaped.

“Ahtaal,” you tested his name on your tongue. “And what’s the reason behind kidnapping me? Since, clearly, its not to kill or else you would’ve ready done that.” During the time he was gone, you had placed the pieces together. If he wanted you dead, you would’ve been so with your skull joining the other humans on the wall.

The red alien filled his lungs with air, chest expanding with the movement. The gears in his large head seemed to move with each thought. “You are… unique. You have talent I wish to tap into. Unusual for ooman to possess such a skill. It would be a waste to kill you,” he answered smoothly. You scoffed at his words and rolled your eyes. Talent? Skill? What was this buffoon going on about?

“And are you sure you nabbed the right person? I’m not anything special. I work in fast food and live paycheck to paycheck,” you denied his claim. A sharpness entered his consuming gaze. He jumped to his feet and marched over you. Despite knowing this alien could crush your skull between his fingers, you steeled your glare and even moved towards it.

He stopped and towered straight over you, straddling your extended legs. You refused to back down in the face of danger. The deadly tip of his claw pointed at you. “That. That right there is what I’m talking about. You have to know that I could kill you with little effort and yet here you are, facing me down. Others may call it stupidity, but I call it bravery.”

Your glare faltered for a second. If you didn’t know better, the alien was complimenting you. Yet, you reeled your walls back up. “What happens if I don’t want to be here? Are you going to let me go?” Was there an escape from this?

If you hadn’t been watching Ahtaal so closely, you would’ve missed the way his shoulders drooped just a centimeter. He shook his head. “I cannot. My honor code doesn’t allow those who have seen me to live. I’m not willing to kill such potential.”

“So, we are at a standstill.” The water bag was set down on your lap. Your arms crossed firmly over your chest.

“So it seems,” Ahtaal agreed simply then took a couple of steps away from you. “For now, I will gather you some supplies before we head off. Is there anything you would like, unable to depart with?” The way he offers it would nearly be sweet if the severity of the situation didn’t way heavy on your shoulders.

His words finally hit you. “Depart? Where are you taking me? Where are we going?” you snapped and brushed over his second question.

A grin fell over his features. “Space.” Then, he spun on his heel and left you to the loneliness of the skull filled room. Your jaw dropped, terror entering your veins.

“Space?!”

#yautja #predator #yautja x reader #yautja x you #alien vs predator #yautja x human #predator x reader #predator x you #predator x human #x reader #Ahtaal #A new yautja

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thewildsophia · 1 year

Text

One Piece//Straw Hats x Winged!Reader

A/N: I haven't seen anything with the entire straw hat crew and a winged!reader so I made one myself. Can be read either as platonic or romantic.

CW: Strong language.

Word Count: 8216

"Read More Link” placed due to length.

Straw Hats w/Winged!Crewmate

Luffy

You met Luffy when you were flying before you were forcefully pulled down to the deck of the Thousand Sunny. Luffy had thought you were some large bird and was disappointed when he realized you weren’t edible.

You were dazed and disoriented when you looked up at Luffy and the other crewmembers who had flocked around the deck to gawk at you. After getting a good look at you, Luffy picked you up and without missing a beat asked you to join his crew. The rest of the crew all screamed at him which freaked you out and you tried to fly off.

“Hey! Where you going?” You heard someone shout before being grabbed by your ankle and pulled back down to the deck. Your head was throbbing from that second pull and was being made worse by Nami screaming at Luffy to be nice to you.

Again, Luffy asked you to join his crew before Nami hit him on the head. Nami apologized to you and simply offered for you to stay on the ship while you orientate yourself.

During your “recovery” time though the crew manages to charm you enough to stay for a little while longer. After fighting by their side during one of their adventures on some random-ass island, you decide to officially join them.

The first few days you were on the ship, Luffy would come up behind you and just…grab them. After a few scoldings conversations about it, Luffy learned not just to grab them, but to at least make his presence known to you before doing so.

Sometimes if you’re on one side of the Sunny’s deck and he’s on the other, he’ll stretch his arm (or arms) out and tap your shoulder before stroking your wings.

He really just can’t help himself tbh. They’re just so soft!

Once you become more comfortable with it, Luffy likes to just play with your wings. Stuff like opening and closing them or carding through the individual feathers with his fingers while you’re busy doing something else.

Luffy loves to just watch you move around sometimes since your wings have a life of their own. Like when you bend over to pick something up your wings stretch out just a little bit to help keep you balance.

You eventually became comfortable enough to let Luffy pet your wings when the crew is enjoying some downtime. Ya’ll will be sitting somewhere near the Sunny’s railing and Luffy will be stroking your feathers with a surprising amount of delicacy.

You quickly become one of Luffy’s favorite playmates without even trying. Whenever you're playing a game of tag your movements make you someone very hard to tag.

Luffy likes to ask a lot of questions about your wings and what you are. His curiosity knows no bounds and that’s reflected in his well-intended but sometimes rude queries.

You are also one of the first people Luffy goes to when he wants to spar which is few and far in between. He finds that you are a very capable fighter and have a very unique style. When you move your body, your movements are smooth as silk and you are able to contort it in many different ways, similar to his in a way. He finds fighting against you to be a very unique challenge.

Whenever your wings are molting, you don’t let Luffy help you preen them, but you do give the nicer feathers from your wings to him, and my God does he love them. He tucked one of them in the ribbon of his straw hat and showed it off proudly to the rest of the crew and no you’re not crying-

BEGS you to take him flying with you. You say no every time for fear of dropping him in the ocean. You wouldn’t mind doing it if he just didn’t squIRM SO MUCH.

Luffy KNOWS that you can carry him in the air since you’ve grabbed him before in the middle of fights and placed him somewhere else so he pesters you every day about it.

Knowing that you can carry him, he would purposely get into tight situations in battle so you would swoop down and fly him to safety.

Talking about combat as well, Luffy is mildly surprised at how fast you can move about the field, slipping and zooming between targets in an instant. He also took note of your strength and how much of a punch you pack despite your dainty stature.

He once watched you kick a guy square in the face and he went flyyyyyying (no pun intended). The moment he saw that guy’s body sore through the air he thought to himself, “Yup, I picked out another great crewmember!”

Overall, he’s thrilled to have someone so unique on his crew and is obsessed with the way that you are just…you. Luffy has good taste in picking out his crew and you are no exception.

Zoro

Zoro had found you by complete accident. He had gotten lost on one of the many islands the straw hats visited in the Grand Line and accidentally ran into you.

At first, he thought you were someone who had fallen from Skypeia, but after noting just how large your wings are compared to those on Skypeia he thinks to ask, to which you explain you’re not from there.

He’s quick to ask for directions and you gladly help him all the while you two are chatting as you lead him back to his ship. The moment Luffy spots you with Zoro you immediately become an official crew member you don’t have a choice.

Zoro never really asks where you’re from or what you are. He’s more interested in who you are and wants to know you personally. Considering he’s a part of a crew that has several devil fruit users, he starts to care less about others' abilities and looks and focuses more on their character.

Zoro is pretty indifferent about the whole wings thing tbh. He thinks they look nice and all, but it doesn’t really change his opinion of you either way.

But don’t take it the wrong way like he’s disinterested; He’s that way with everyone.

He does enjoy laying against/on them when you two take naps together on the ship. They’re so soft and smell -- while not necessarily good -- nice; they smell like you, and he finds comfort in that.

Zoro only ever asked you once to touch your wings. It was late at night and you had decided to join him in looking out since you couldn’t sleep. You’re sure he had been drinking. He was very quiet when he asked you, almost as if he didn’t want you to hear him.

The rough callouses on his hands ticked as they carded through your feathers and you stifled a small giggle at the sensation. He made only one comment about how soft they were. Slowly you found yourself drifting to sleep as his fingers methodically brushed your wings.

The two of you ended up falling asleep together. Zoro’s head rested against your shoulder as you wrapped him in the warmth of your wing. When you woke up in the morning, Zoro was gone :(

Zoro doesn’t take care of his personal hygiene that well (this guy showers like, what, once every week? Stinky…) so he doesn’t really help you preen your wings when you’re molting. Or anytime really tbh.

And if you’re being honest, he wouldn’t really be that good at it either. He would pull on the wrong ones and be rough when pushing feathers out of the way to pluck others. He wouldn’t mean to hurt you, he’s just not good at delicate work like that.

He doesn’t really collect your feathers like some of the others, but he does keep one of the really long-flight feathers that you gave him. He has it stashed in the Crow’s Nest (he thought it funny to keep your feather in the “Crows Nest” since a crow is a bird and birds have feathers…Just don’t bring it up to him bc he WILL get embarrassed).

Never asks you to take him flying with you, which you’re grateful for. He’s so dense with muscle that you don’t think you could actually fly with him. Plus, Luffy’s begging is enough lmao.

In battle, he expected you to be fast and light, but wasn’t expecting you to be such a hard hitter, you know? He thought you’d have a lighter punch given the whole “angelic” thing you have going on but no, his eyes widened when he watched you absolutely deck this buff-ass dude into the dirt.

Like this man’s whole head was stuck in the dirt and he struggled to pull it out. Zoro was honestly shocked you hadn’t busted his skull open from the impact of such a hit.

If you ever decide to take up swordsmanship, Zoro is glad -- and even a little excited -- to teach you. Just know that he doesn’t take it lightly and, while firm, is a reasonable instructor. He would also encourage you to try out different techniques that are unique to you and that may match your fighting style and mobility better.

Maybe using your flight would help with sweeping attacks? Zoro doesn’t know, he leaves that up to you to figure out.

There was one time when he was knocked tf out in a long fight and you were the first thing he woke up to -- face pinched in worry and wings disheveled and dirty -- and he honestly thought he had died and gone to heaven, but you will NEVER hear him tell you about that.

Overall, Zoro is not that impressed by the fact you have wings but is instead impressed at how you use them to your and the crew’s benefit. He thinks of you as a very strong and reliable crew member and someone who is genuinely very kind to others.

Nami

The Straw Hats met you pretty early on in their journey at the Baratie. When Nami first saw you, a horrible thought ran through her head, that being she could possibly sell you as some kind of “exotic” item/person to pay off the debt to Arlong. However, she quickly pushed that thought out of her head and is somewhat disturbed at the fact that she ever had that thought.

After Nami had stolen the Going Merry and returned to Cocoyasi Village, she was shocked to see you with the crew when they came to pick her up. She witnessed firsthand that day just how freakishly strong you are, having been able to beat the shit out of a Fishman by yourself.

You were the first person to greet her after she got her tattoo reworked. You expressed how relieved you were that she was okay, that you understood why she did what she did, and that you wouldn’t (couldn’t) hold it against her. It was during that conversation that she decided she belonged with the Straw Hats.

You two quickly become friends once ya’ll officially join the crew.

Whenever the crew docks on a new island, Nami LOVES to go shopping for items for you that would complement your wings. Clothes, jewelry, whatever, she loves to doll you up with or without your approval lol.

Along with clothes and jewelry, Nami also looks for good soaps and other hygiene products that are gentle on your feathers and skin, but keep them looking and smelling nice.

Nami often asks you for fashion advice. You don’t change your outfits nearly as often as she does, but you slay every single one you wear and she aspires to look as good as you.

Tbh, you don’t know what to say to her since she too also slays and you just throw things together without any particular process.

Nami was the first person on the crew to buy you a pair of padded gloves to protect your hands while fighting as she noticed the copious amount of bruises and cuts to your knuckles.

Depending on how much you already know and understand, Nami shows you how to budget money if you’re ever unsure how to do so.

Something Nami does for you is offer to hold your wings. Considering how large of a bust she had, she understands the most out of the whole crew how sore your back and shoulders become when carrying something heavy like that all day. Nami has you lean into her chest and relax your wings while she holds them at the base where they connect to your back. You are always grateful whenever she does this because holy shit your back feels so light.

She’ll also help you stretch them out whenever you need to. For example, she’ll grab the tip of your wings and pull them out, stretching them to their full span. Keeping them folded all day can lead to some crazy cramps.

Nami is always willing to help you preen your wings in the spots you can’t quite reach. Every time she helps you, she tells you how soft they are the whole time.

Nami collects the long, straight feathers that fall off and uses them to write with. It started when you gifted one of your long feathers to her and she kept it in the cup on her desk with all her other writing utensils. One day the quill she was using broke and, not wanting to buy another one, she improvised by using the one you gave her. She was shocked at how well it held up and how crisp the lines were and began asking you for more.

Much like other members of the crew, Nami WILL fall asleep cuddled into your wings if given the chance. But just like the other members of the crew, you never mind when she does :)

Nami never really asks for you to carry her while flying, mainly because she has a slight fear of heights, but you have flown with her on occasion. Whether it be recreationally or to move her out of harm's way, you try to stay as low as safely possible whenever you carry Nami.

Overall, Nami is not only mystified by your beauty and uniqueness but is also glad to have another strong fighter among the crew. She feels safe whenever you're near.

Usopp

So Usopp shot you out of the sky while the crew was sailing in the Grandline. He didn’t realize you were a person, he thought you were a large bird that Sanji could cook up for dinner! Imagine his surprise when you fell onto the deck and BOOM, a whole fucking person is lying there and, oh God are you dead?

Chopper was quick to tend to your wounds. Since Usopp had used a flame star on you, some of your feathers were singed on your left wing, which made it impossible for you to fly even if you wanted to until they grew back. Usopp stayed in the office while Chopper tended to you and waited for you to wake up. The moment you woke up in Chopper’s office you panicked; You screamed and threw anything you could get a hold of at the reindeer and Usopp before bolting for the door. You got out, but when you tried to take flight, you found that you were unable to. After falling to the deck a couple of times in a futile attempt to leave, you eventually accepted that you weren’t going anywhere.

Luffy offered you a spot as a part of the crew that day, but you were unsure. You eventually compromised on letting you stay on the ship until you dock on the next island, to which you could either leave or stay with the crew. Later on, you decided you would stay with them.

When given the chance, Usopp apologized PROFUSELY for shooting you. Like, he was on the ground crying, begging for forgiveness. Before anyone realized it, you had balled your hand up and punched Usopp in the stomach, sending him flying against the guardrail on the other side of their ship. Dazed, Usopp looked up at you as you approached him. Leaning down to face him, you said to him, “I forgive you,” and from then on out it was mostly smooth sailing between the two of you.

Usopp LOVES to draw up ideas on new items and weapons for you to use, either things that attach to your wings or that can be used by you while in flight.

Speaking of drawing, Usopp also loves to draw, just…you. You’re such a unique subject, possessing a silhouette unmatched by any other (with maybe the exception of the Skypia citizens, but even then their wings were not as large as yours). Usopp just thinks you’re pretty and he likes to draw pretty things :)

Usopp also taught you how to shoot with a slingshot. He figured that while you’re in the air you’d have a pretty clear shot of the battlefield, so you could offer aerial support for the Straw Hats.

He also looked into different fabrics and materials he could make new clothes for you out of; Something that was light and wouldn’t affect your flying, but something that was flame and puncture-resistant. With the help of Franky and Nami, he was able to sew something that provided you with a little more protection in combat than what you typically wear.

When you first asked Usopp to help preen your wings in the springtime, he refused immediately. It wasn’t because he didn’t want to help you, he just didn’t think he could do a good job at it. You assured him and told him you’d instruct him while he did it.

It took a while for him to figure out which feathers were ready to come out and which ones were still healthy and alive (He pulled out quite a few good flight feathers…ouch), but by the end of it, all your wings were healthy and shiny.

You told Usopp he could do whatever he wanted with the feathers and at first, he just kept them in a box in his workshop, not sure what to do with them but unable to just throw them out because, hello, they’re your feathers.

He tries to come up with inventions that could utilize them, but he has yet to design and sketch one up.

Usopp found out the hard way just how hard your punches hit. He also got to bear witness to it when the crew was fighting off another random pirate crew that thought they could cash in their bounty. Usopp was s h o o k when he watched you grab this pretty beefy pirate and just drag him to the fucking floor before beating the absolute shit out of him with your bare hands. Rest assured, he never doubted your capability in a fight after that.

Overall, Usopp is impressed, and somewhat scared, of your strength and just the general uniqueness that is you. He has just never met anyone like you before (until Skypia that is, but they’re not even as cool as you) and is always in awe of you.

Sanji

Oh, where to begin with this guy lmao…

You met Sanji allllll the way back at the Baratie. You had barely managed to escape the capture of a pirate crew that wanted to sell you and found yourself flying aimlessly over the sea, with no idea where you were or where you were going and starving. You stumbled across the Baratie by complete accident and once you realized that it was a restaurant, you practically ran through the doors.

You pleaded with the staff to give you anything to eat -- offering to clean dishes, dispose of trash, or be a bodyguard for the restaurant (that last one got a few laughs out of some of the staff) -- but without any money, you were quickly kicked out.

Before long, a pair of black dress shoes stood in front of where you lay on the ground and a plate of fried rice was placed in front of you. You gasped as you sat up and looked at the person who gave you the food. “No one deserves to starve. Especially someone as lovely as yourself,” He said to you.

From that day on, Sanji kept a close eye on you. Sanji let you stay and work with him -- with the approval of Zeff ofc -- so when he left to join the Straw Hat crew, you joined alongside him; Thankfully, Luffy didn’t have a problem with it.

Sanji makes special meals for you considering that you have a different diet from the other Straw Hats. If you ever tell him he doesn’t have to do that for you, he insists on making your meals with certain ingredients since he does the same for Chopper (considering he, as a reindeer, has a vegan diet and all).

You’re also the main person Sanji asks for help in the kitchen the very few times he ever asks for help. He has a lot of trust in your kitchen skill considering you worked with him for a short time.

Regardless of your gender or sex, Sanji is ALWAYS fawning over you. Are you hot? Here’s a cold, refreshing drink for you. Are you hungry for a snack? Sanji has already cut up a nice gala apple for you! Seriously, this man is just obsessed with you (in a good way, that is).

Like Nami, Sanji loves to go out and buy outfits for you. Dresses and skirts or suits and ties, whatever you want, Sanji will buy it for you.

Sanji is very curious about your life before he met you and how exactly you came to be the way you are. He assumed you got your wings from a devil fruit and was shocked when you told him you were born with them. That was the moment he became more invested in your origin and what exactly you are.

He never pressures you to tell him anything if you’re uncomfortable with it, but if you are, he’ll fix you both a cup of tea and sit with you in the kitchen, listening intently to whatever you have to say.

Sanji is also the most likely one to spend time with you at odd hours of the night. He doesn’t have the soundest sleep schedule and is a fairly light sleeper -- at least the lightest out of all the men -- so there’s a good chance he’ll be awake whenever you can’t sleep. Again, he’ll fix you something light to eat or drink that will hopefully help you sleep.

Sanji never expected you to ask him to help you care for your wings, but bro did not hesitate to say yes. He has you sit in the kitchen’s dining area while he helps preen your wings, handing you the feathers as he goes. When you offered him to keep them he didn’t waste a second more and stuffed them (gently) into his coat pockets with the longer ones poking out of his pocket lol.

He doesn’t keep them in the kitchen (for sanitary reasons), but he does keep them in a small keepsake box where he puts all his valuables in his sleeping area. Sometimes when he’s changing up his outfit, he’ll place one of your short feathers into the suit pocket alongside a handkerchief. It’s so adorable and you smiled so hard when you first saw it.

Sanji would never ask you to take him flying, but if you offered he first declined before quickly agreeing if you insist. He won’t admit it, but the moment he met you he wished you’d sweep him off his feet and bring him into the air with you.

Sanji didn’t think you could fight that well. To him, you looked like a delicate teenager/young adult needing protection. He did everything he could to protect you from the pirates that attacked the Baratie, but it wasn’t until he was pinned down and forced to watch you get jumped by a group of the other pirates that he actually saw just how strong you were.

Granted, it took you a hot second and you got hit by them a few times, but you still managed to beat the absolute shit out of them (and these were decently built people as well).

Sanji never doubted your ability to defend yourself from then on, but he still does try to protect you whenever he can. It’s just ingrained in him to protect other people.

Overall, Sanij was immediately won over by your beauty, but as he got to know you and your personality became more understood by him, a deep respect for your character grew within him. While lovely, Sanji often looks past your wings and sees you for who you truly are.

Chopper

Chopper met you along with all the other Straw Hats on Drum Island. You assisted Luffy in bringing Nami to the only doctor on the island, acting as another bodyguard for him along with Sanji. Eventually, Sanji was knocked out and you carried him while Luffy had Nami.

It took a while for you two to reach the top of the Rockies where the doctor was supposed to be and it was draining on the both of you. You saw a pair of feet approach you and passed out to the sound of Luffy shouting, “They’re my Nakama!”

Doctorine allowed Chopper to treat you since, out of the four, your injuries were the least severe. At first, the two assumed you were a regular human and laid you on your back while they treated the others. It wasn’t until after Luffy was bandaged up that the two got to you. Removing your coat, Chopper was taken aback at the sight of feathers all inside your coat pressed up against your body. He quickly called Doctorine over and quickly decided to treat you instead and pushed Sanji over to Chopper for care.

Chopper made quick work of Sanji in order to watch Doctorine treat you. He watched intently as she was careful of your wings and placed you to rest on your side instead of your back. You were the last to wake up of the four and Chopper couldn’t hold back his questions about you. Doctorine swiftly dismissed him to allow you to recover as you had developed a small cold on top of your other injuries.

After recovering some and being faced with Drum Island’s “King” Wapol, Chopper was incredibly impressed by how well you fight along with the other Straw Hats. Not only were you wearing somewhat restricting clothing (those coats kept you warm but were hard to move in at times), but you were also still injured and yet you still managed to pack these guys up lmao. He was also very grateful when you covered him from an incoming attack, but also felt guilty that you had to sustain another injury.

After Chopper joined the crew, you were the first one he truly befriended. While he had no problem with the others in the crew, he felt most comfortable with you. He thinks it’s because of your gentle appearance and kind voice, but you think it’s because of your wings and somewhere in this subconscious he connects them to an animal and therefore connects you to an animal, which brings him comfort.

Chopper has many, and I mean many, questions about your anatomy and physiology. You explain everything you know about your body to him, including that you have hollow bones, there are air sacs in your lower abdomen, there are some foods that you just can’t eat, and that your hearing is very sensitive (sorry to my HoH and deaf baddies ilyyy).

Chopper loves to sleep with you. Whether it’s taking naps together or actually falling asleep at night, he feels very safe within your arms and wrapped in your wings.

As a doctor, Chopper knows how one’s back hurts when carrying a large weight on their shoulders for an extended period of time, so he’s quick to ask about any back pain you have. If you are ever having any discomfort, Chopper will massage your shoulders and back near where your wings connect to your skin to ease the soreness. He’ll also look into any medicine that helps with back pain like yours.

Chopper gets really nervous whenever you sustain any injury to your wings. While he has been taught how to treat many different injuries and illnesses on a person, your wings are a whole new thing to him and often time he needs your guidance to treat you. He’s very nervous about hurting you more than you already are :(

Chopper was very excited the first time you asked him to preen your wings. He’d seen some of the birds on Drum Island do the same thing sometimes during the warmer months, but he never quite understood what they were doing at the time. He’s very gentle and always asks before fully pulling off a feather all the way like he does a little tug and asks if it’s ready to go.

If you ever break one of your blood feathers, Chopper is quick to treat you with the least amount of pain possible.

Chopper uses some of your shorter, stiff feathers as pens to write with similar to Nami. He keeps them in a cup with all his other pens and pencils. The rest of your feathers he throws out since he doesn’t have a use for them and wants to keep his office clean and clear.

Chopper frequently asks you to take him flying and isn’t above begging you to do so.

He’s the only Straw Hat that you take flying somewhat regularly. His small stature and light weight make it possible for you to fly for long periods of time without straining yourself too much. The first few times you carried him with you, you flew close to the deck/ground so as not to frighten him. Once he felt confident you wouldn’t drop him, he began to beg you to fly higher, which you happily complied with.

Whenever you guys are attacked, you are the first person Chopper runs to for cover (assuming you’re close enough). He’s seen just how strong you are and feels safe with you.

Overall, Chopper first views you as a very unique patient; Someone who he can learn something new from. He then started to see just how genuinely kind you are and began to look up to you as an inspiration for what he wants to be.

Robin

You were already a part of the Straw Hat crew when you met Robin while she was still working for Crocodile. Similar to Chopper, the large, baggy clothing you were wearing gave you the appearance of being a normal human. It’s not until she goes to use her devil fruit and restrain you that she feels something unusual on you; Something soft.

It’s not until you all depart from Alabasta and she makes her presence known on the ship that she actually sees them. With your protective clothes gone, your large, soft wings are on full display and Robin’s interest is immediately piqued.

Using her devil fruit, she grows an arm out of your back and you freak out at the feeling of her touching your wing from so far away. She’s normally much more polite about such things, but she just couldn’t contain herself at that moment. She promptly apologized to you before joining the crew, much to everyone’s surprise.

Robin is very curious about you after you inform her your wings aren’t the product of some devil fruit. She thinks back on any race -- either modern or ancient -- that had wings like yours, but she could think of none. Not even the people from Skypia had wings as majestic as yours, so she quickly ruled that out.

Robin will often ask you to join her while she sits out on the deck reading. It doesn’t matter what you were doing before, if it’s something that can be done outside then she’ll beckon you over.

She asks about your origins during one of these times in a non-probing way and very politely. If you tell her you don’t know much about your origin or that you haven’t eaten a devil fruit, she’ll start looking into it while doing her other research.

The title/nickname she calls you by is “The Avian” or just “Avian.”

Whenever the crew docks at an island and goes shopping, Robin likes to buy little bird-related nicknacks -- stuff like ceramic parakeets and glass canaries. She gifts them to you saying that they reminded her of you.

You have a shelf in your room that, along with your books, holds all the little birds (Robin smiled so hard when she saw it for the first time and, if I dare say, even blushed a little 0_0). They’re all secured with a little bit of adhesive on the bottom to prevent them from flying when the ship is forced to make crazy maneuvers.

In the least creepy way possible, Robin likes to watch you sleep. She doesn’t actively try to watch you sleep but if you end up falling asleep next to her while lounging on the deck together, she’ll close the book she’s reading and just…watch you. Not long, just a few minutes max.

She’s very grateful to be alive and that gratitude spreads to her friends and crewmates. She’s happy that you are alive and seeing you breathe and your heart pump brings her comfort knowing that you are alive.

Robin acts very much like a mother towards you, especially if you’re one of the younger members of the crew. She keeps an eye on you as you soar through the sky and perform cool tricks that impress the others and is always ready to catch you if something goes wrong.

Robin based her one devil fruit move where she grows “wings” of a sort after you.

Robin loves very much to help groom and preen your wings. She’s like Luffy in wanting to touch your wings frequently, but she’s much more discrete about it than he is.

She’s very gentle when pulling your feathers and removing dead ones. She always asks for confirmation before actually pulling one off. Her fingers are gentle as they card through your feathers and she scratched them in all the right ways.

She’ll also make sure to reorganize the feathers so that they lay correctly and comfortably when she’s done helping you groom them.

Robin never asks you to take her flying and she’ll turn down any offers you may give her. She may seem aloof and not interested but in reality, she very much wants you to carry her during flight. She’s a little embarrassed about it but mostly feels that you have better things to do than take her for a joy ride.

Whenever you grab her and fly her over to somewhere safe during a fight, she has a little fun while in the air with you.

Robin isn’t all that impressed at your inhuman strength. When you’re as well-traveled as she is you come across so many unique and bizarre people that you eventually become unfazed by it.

She does admire that, while you’re strong, it does take you some time to deal with a group of enemies. Some of the other crewmates are able to take out a lot of people in a crazy short amount of time so seeing you take a minute to beat up a group reminds her that you’re -- and the rest of the group as well -- still human and very real. You’re not some machine created to kill.

It was still a little jarring for her to see your petite frame bust some large guy’s ass and throw him across the battlefield. It took her a couple of battles to get used to it tbh.

Overall, Robin is very interested in you, both in who you are as a person and what you are as a being. To her, you are the definition of “looks can be deceiving” as you manage to surprise her time and time again.

Franky

When Usopp had come back to the ship bloody and bruised and without the money, you went out with the rest of the group that went to pay his attackers a visit.

When Franky first saw you approaching with the group he thought you were an angel (bc he’s corny like that). He laughed to himself a little bit thinking about how out of place you looked side by side with the rest of him. He stopped laughing, however, when you socked him in the jaw and sent him flying into a wall that was a few feet away.

Chaos ensued and the last glimpse he got of you was of your wings swaying as you walked away from the rubble of the Franky House with the rest of your crew.

Time passes and the events of Water 7/CP9 take place and before you know it Franky is now a part of the crew (much to your surprise).

Tbh, it takes you a hot minute to really warm up to him as a crewmate considering what he did to Usopp, but in the end, you decide to follow Usopp’s lead, and if he was willing to forgive Franky then you were too.

Franky’s corny ass asks you if you’re an angel or something similar and you have to tell him no, much to his disappointment. Like he visually deflates when you tell him you aren’t some Godsend.

He does like to place you on his shoulder and say some stupid shit like, “Look! I’ve got an angel on my shoulder!” It’s a little embarrassing when he does that on a new island and locals look at you like you’re insane.

He only once asked about what you were and after you told him you didn’t know he never brought it up again. Bro really just doesn’t care lmao.

Franky likes to just watch you move about sometimes. Your wings move in a way that is uniquely and completely you. When you lean forward your wings spread back to balance yourself. If you ever trip your wings flutter to right yourself. They’re just really fun to look at for him.

Franky will look at some of the schematics that Usopp made for items related to your wings and will actually make them (with modifications he sees fit). He also creates some of his own inventions for you to try out and if one particular item doesn’t do it for you Franky’s not offended at all and scrapes/revises it.

The first time Franky touched your wings was when he was making an item for you and needed your wings’ specific measurements. He noted just how soft they were and couldn’t help but press his face into them, causing you to laugh lightly.

You kept some of them, but most of his inventions for you were just too heavy/bulky for them to be practical in battle :/

He’ll ask you to try out some of his inventions from time to time similar to Usopp, specifically ones that are better executed from higher places.

Franky is not the person to ask for help to preen your wings. It’s not that he’s rough like Zoro -- quite the opposite in fact -- but because his hands are just so big. He has difficulty trying to grab individual feathers and often pulls three or four out at a time.

He is about just stroking your wings though. He uses very light pressure on them as his fingers ghost over your feathers and it almost feels like a gentle breeze instead of someone touching them.

Franky loves it when you give him your feathers! He often asks you to just give all the dead ones to him and he’ll personally go through them and pick out the ones he wants to keep.

He uses them for decorating his inventions and other things, as well as writing and just sitting pretty somewhere in his workshop. He even keeps one of them in his shirt pocket claiming that it’s “lucky.”

After the two of you became better acquainted, Franky asked you a few times to pick him up and fly with him. You tried, you really did, but you just couldn’t. You can pick him up relatively okay, but you just couldn’t take flight with him. He chalked it up to being mostly metal and didn’t bother you about trying again.

Franky learned his lesson the hard way not to fuck with you. His jaw was sore for days after you punched him in the face. He never saw you fight during the CP9 battle, so the first time he actually saw you fight as an ally was after the crew docked at the next island and were harassed by some other pirates.

Franky watched you throw a guy at least three times your size over your head and a solid twenty-five feet away from you. He then proceeded to witness you break someone’s nose with a headbutt and he was glad you hadn’t done that to him (although his nose is made of metal).

He then considered getting or making you a pair of brass knuckles to see just how much damage you could do in a single punch.

Overall, Franky is always looking for new inventions to make and your body provides a very unique canvas he can design his inventions for. In his eyes, you’re not only a unique individual but also someone who is forgiving and kind-hearted.

Brook

You met Brook with the rest of the crew near Thriller Bark. Immediately charmed by your beauty, Brook politely asked to see your underwear (regardless of your gender bc bffr he don’t care). Nami is quick to hit him for it.

Since he wasn’t present for most of Thriller Bark he kind of slipped your mind, since you had been dealing with zombies, until you ran into him by accident and he told you how to actually defeat them. Grateful, you do as he says.

After the stressful events of Thriller Bark and +1 more crewmate, you’re all off onto Fishman Island (until you take a detour to Sabaody Archipelago that is).

Brook assumes that your wings come from a devil fruit and is shocked one night when you casually mention you don’t have devil fruit powers. He then asks about it and you tell him that you just don’t know, so he doesn’t ask any further.

Expect this absolute dipshit to ask to see your underwear at least once a week if not more. Brook has a preference for pretty women, but really he likes anyone that’s pretty so you check the box in that aspect at least.

Brook likes to talk about Laboon with you. He feels that out of everyone on the ship, you’d understand his attachment to Laboon the most, even if you hadn’t met him in the East Blue.

Perhaps it’s because you resemble a bird? Brook isn’t even sure why he feels that way about you.

Brook would teach you how to whistle and mimic other bird calls/tweeting. He thought it fitting and thinks it amusing whenever he finds you somewhere on the deck delivering bird noises to yourself in the early morning.

It’s especially amusing when an actual bird or two respond to your call and sit with you on the deck.

Brook loves to hug you even if he can’t feel you (small headcanon: Brook is unable to feel since he lacks the nerve endings necessary to do so). He’s not a creep in the sense that he wants to touch you, he just loves the idea that he’s hugging someone since, hello, that man was alone for fifty years so he’s a little fucked in the head from that.

Tbh, he just likes to be around and in physical contact with you. Again, this stems from his time alone and he feels more safe when he’s with someone, especially you. Maybe, subconsciously, he views you as some kind of angel that’s there to guide him after his death so he feels the most at ease with you, but you’ll never hear him admit that.

Brook would be very good at preening your wings -- probably one of the best if you’re being honest. Since his fingers are nothing but bone they’re very precise in which feather they grab. Although, the lack of friction does mean that your feathers frequently slip through his bones, but two or three yanks later and the dead feather is gone!

Brook started collecting your feathers the first time you let him preen your wings. You know the boa he wears post-time skip? It’s made out of your feathers.

While Brook can’t actually feel your feathers, he just believes the others when they say they’re soft and will fight anyone who argues otherwise.

Brook is the easiest to fly with out of all the Straw Hats hands down. He genuinely feels like nothing when you carry him and you’ve actually dropped him once due to this.

Brook seems like the kind of guy to have a fear of heights, so he doesn’t ask you to carry him a lot when flying. He doesn’t mind though, however, when you bail him out of a tight spot in the middle of a fight.

He’ll actually be screaming and crying and thanking you as you set him down somewhere safe before continuing your own fight with whomever.

Speaking of fighting, Brook is terrified when he first sees you throw a punch. He was expecting some regular, non-devil fruit-type punch that would maybe disorientate someone. What he wasn’t expecting was for you to send someone twice, thrice your size across the room and skit to a halt on the hard, concrete floor.

He determined then that he would never make you mad and is very glad you’re on his side lmao.

Overall, Brook adores you, for your beauty/handsomeness, your kindheart, and your immense strength. You are someone he feels comfortable with and that he can form a deep bond with in a way he can’t with the other crewmembers; You are unique to him in that way.

Straw Hats

Usopp, Luffy, and Chopper all cuddle you when taking a nap lmao. Sometimes others will join you four, but they’re the core group :)

Nami and Sanji are the main people who like to dress you up (you have a whole collection of clothes that the two of them have bought for you), but you’ll often find Robin, Franky, and Brook in attendance at the small “fashion shows” Nami and Sanji “host” for you after they have gone shopping.

Franky will sometimes find little bird items that remind him of you, but instead of giving them to you himself, he hands them off to Robin to gift to you instead (embarrassed much, Franky?).

You, Robin, and Nami go to spas frequently whenever you get the chance. Nami always makes sure you get a deep tissue back massage there.

Considering your unique physique, there are many people who gawk at you whenever you enter new islands and towns. It’s mostly limited to stares and whispers amongst others, but occasionally someone will speak up and talk to you.

Zoro and Sanji are especially defensive of you when this happens. It’s not that they think you can’t handle yourself, it’s just that they want to make sure you have the appropriate backup necessary in case someone does get nasty with you.

There have been occasions when someone grabs your wings without your knowledge/consent, both random pedestrians and enemies.

If it’s a pedestrian then someone from the crew will probably leave them with a minor injury, such as a slap to the face or a punch to the gut.

If it’s an enemy then the crew is on that person in an instant.

There is one time you can vividly remember an enemy grabbing your wings. You were trying to move Luffy away from someone when you were suddenly grabbed by the ankle and dragged back to the ground, causing you to drop Luffy some feet away. A foot was set on your lower back with a lot of pressure and that’s when your wings were grabbed close to the base and pulled.

The scream that ripped through your throat was haunting as you tried to contort your back away from your assailant in vain. You felt warm blood drip onto your shoulders when suddenly all the pressure on you was gone and you saw the guy lying still on the ground several meters away from you.

Chopper tended to you first that night and noted the mostly minor tearing around the top base of your wings. It took a week to heal completely, yet the scars from it still remain on your back, a lighter color than the rest of the tissue there.

Overall, the crew loves you to bits and you love them too.

A/N: I was NOT intending this to be so long. I only wanted each character to be like 6-7 points each, but I got carried away as usual. Either way, I hope you enjoyed it!

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