#‘i need to get stronger’ process to get stronger

[eggrollforyou]

Wait For Me

Zoro x F!Reader x Law

Summary: you, a fellow Straw Hat, and the crew are separated at Sabaody. Saved by Law, you have to decide if you’ll accept his help or cut your losses and handle things on your own until your crew reunites.

CW: MDNI, NSFW, Angst, slow burn, Canon divergent, eventual smut, AFAB reader, use of Y/N, hidden baby trope (kinda? Not by choice lol), descriptions of violence, blood, and vomit, pregnant reader, self doubt

This chapter: ANGST, angst to comfort, smut. Not proofread. First couple paragraphs from the last chapter.

Series masterlist

Alternate ending

“Wh-what do you mean, my daughter?” he blinks at you in confusion. How could he not see it?! She’s clearly a spitting image of him. “W-when, The Heart Pirates saved me during our battle with the Pacafistas…..I was pregnant..” your voice trembled under his gaze. Before you had an opportunity to finish your thought, “And you knew?!” his voice raising slightly. He immediately regretted his reaction, seeing you wince, your body going rigid and beginning to pull back at his outburst.

He cleared his throat, “I-I’m sorry,” he mumbled. “No, Zoro….I didn’t know. I found out after Law triaged my injuries,” you meekly stated. “I…I know this throws your plans into disarray…I-I..I couldn’t NOT have her, though,” you peer up through wet lashes, your tears threatening to spill. Your anxiety is heightened. A fireball sitting in your chest, your stomach nervous, as you await his response. Wiping your clammy hands on your pants, you reach over to Shakky and take Ayumi into your arms. Holding her on your hip. “She’s our daughter, Zoro. She and I wouldn’t be here without Law and the Heart Pirates. They saved us and they made me stronger…for Luffy…for you.”

Zoro’s expression changed from surprised to his stoic, unreadable stare. He glances at you and looks over at Ayumi currently playing with your hair, using it as a curtain to hide herself while giggling. You wish you could steal some of her innocence and obliviousness to the situation you found yourself in, under Zoro’s scrutinizing gaze. You waited with bated breath, his silence only a couple minutes, but felt like an eternity as your thoughts spiraled out of your control. This is it. This is where he tells me there’s no room for us in his life. He has to focus on other things that won’t slow down his or Luffy’s goals. Maybe I can ask Luffy to drop us off on an island where we’ll be safe. I’ll have to do this alone.

Zoro can see your worry, as if your thoughts are being broadcast to anyone within a five mile radius. His silence continues to add to your anxiety, each second feeling like an added stone on a scale forcing it to fall lower and lower, threatening to topple and spill your worry for the world to see, shattering your heart in the process.

“I…I need a minute,” he brusquely mumbles as he runs his hand down his face. He brushes past you both, “I'm sorry, Y/N. I just need some time.” Your heart begins to break with each step he takes away from you. The sound of his footsteps is a confirmation of your worries and fears, each one as if it’s pounding a nail in the coffin of your future. Your gaze turns to Ayumi, as she smiles at you, totally unaware of the situation and you swallow the lump forming in your throat, blinking rapidly to push back the tears burning your eyes. You need to be strong, for her. Taking a deep breath, you close your eyes and press a kiss to her forehead. All you can do is wait.

It’s been hours since Zoro walked out of Shakky’s. Your mind is somewhat occupied as the rest of the crew trickle in, excited and surprised to see you and Ayumi. It feels like you’ve gone over the story a million times, explaining it felt like you were reading a script. “Hey! Where’s Mosshead?” Sanji asks, realizing that Zoro was nowhere to be found. “Did that idiot get lost again?”

Your eyes flash to the door and you’re suddenly reminded how long he’s been gone. “I’m not sure, Sanji. He, uh, said he needed some time after he met Ayumi-” you pause and your face shows your hesitance to continue. Sanji picks up on your hesitation and getting the jist of what happened he takes a long drag from his cigarette. Inhaling, he leans forward, “That fucking jackass. My dear if you need anything-”

“No, Sanji, it’s ok,” you interrupt, putting your hand up asking him to stop for fear or losing whatever composure you had left. You take a deep breath and realize the conversations around you have all but stopped. Everyone has their attention on you. Your lip begins to tremble when you feel that everyone sees through you. “N-nami, Robin? Can you please watch Ayumi for me for a few minutes? I need some fresh air for JUST a second.”

“Take all the time you need, Y/N, “ Robin soothes. “We’ll be right here with this little princess.”

You give a clipped thank you as you quickly walk outside, your arms tense at your side as you clench your fists.

As you walk past the door’s threshold, it takes all your power to muffle the cries that try to escape your throat. Quickly wiping the tears falling from your face you miss the body in front of you as soon as you turn out the door, bumping into them. “Oh!” you sniffle, “I’m so sorry, please excuse me,” you quickly try to compose yourself, not realizing who you bumped into. “Oh HEY, Y/N!” Luffy laughs as he grabs the top of his hat. “I was just talking to Traffy here and thanking him again for helping you and ‘Yumi,” he grins.

You peer behind him and see Law looking standoffish, as usual, his posture stiff and arms crossed. He looks at you and instantly tenses more, seeing you in this state, he wonders what’s going on, though he has an idea. “Is everything alright,

Y/N-ya?” That piercing gaze from his intense stare, you know whatever you say- if it’s not the truth- he’ll know in an instant. You pull your lips into a thin line and nod, hoping that if you don’t say anything you won’t crack. He squints at you, not believing your response. Luffy, actually paying attention to what you look like sees something’s off as well. “Yea” his voice suddenly gruff and serious, “Hey, what’s wrong?”

With both of them staring at you, you can’t help but spill. “Have you noticed who isn’t here?!” you nearly shout as you throw your arms out. “He met her. He met Ayumi and fucking left. Said he needed time. I was terrified that this would happen and there was a part of me through all of this that was hopeful that things wouldn’t have come to this but I was right! I was fucking right.”

Luffy and Law both shift, unable to come up with words to say. You see Law’s gaze soften when you make eye contact. Hot tears slowly roll down your face as you try to regain your breath. “I was fucking right. Ayumi and I now are obstacles to reaching his goals because he’s a stubborn ass ....and..and I don’t think he can see anything else. I don’t think he can see a way to make THIS work! I don’t know what’s going to happen. To us. To my role with the Straw Hats,” you look at Luffy and those few seconds feel like an eternity.

All three of you are startled when you hear someone clearing their throat behind you. Quickly looking around, you see that Zoro walked up at some point during your rant. And you feel so many emotions at once. Your skin is overheated, your heartbeat pounding in your chest and neck. What started as sadness and anxiety has started shifting to anger. Your stomach turns and your cheeks are flushed as you stand there between your future and past. Unsure which side- Luffy and Zoro, or Law- will be what. “Y/N,” Zoro grumbles, “can we talk?”

Law clenches his jaw as he sees you walking away with Zoro. Your defenses clearly up, holding your arms close and crossed across your chest. He hates the turmoil you are going through right now and hates that he can’t do anything to comfort you. He only hopes that you are happy but he wishes he was the one to make you happy. He can only offer to be there to catch you if you need it. He turns to Luffy, feigning interest in what Luffy was saying when you’re no longer in view.

Zoro stayed quiet as you both walked along a path in the mangrove. The sounds of bugs and birds only amplify the quiet between you. It felt like an eternity and you can’t stand his silence any longer. “J-just spit it out Zoro..I can’t keep existing in this limbo where I don’t know what we’re doing. What we are.” He hesitates, his expression serious. “I don’t think I’m in the right place to give you and Ayumi what you need. What you deserve.”

Your mouth goes sour at the bile rising in your throat. Your stomach falling into the pit that it’s been teetering along. “So, what,” you stumble. “It’s just done? We’re done?”

“I don’t think kids were ever in the picture for me, Y/N.” He sighs as he watches you pick your cuticles nearly bloody. “I mean, maybe one day WAY down the line, but right now? I promised Luffy to help him and to reach my own goals. It’s not easy. It’s not fair t-”

You throw your hand up, interrupting him. “Stop. You’ve made it clear. I’m not important enough. Ayumi isn’t important enough. You can’t see beyond your own stubbornness to see how things could work. But you’ve said enough. I don’t need any bullshit excuses. It’s patronizing.” Zoro reaches out to you, hoping to hold your hand and you pull back.

“For all the loyalty you show to Luffy, it’s a shame you can’t show the same to us. I can’t sit around waiting for you to find it. I’m responsible for her now.” You try to muster as much anger and frustration as you can to override the sadness and heartache.

“Y/N….” he calls out.

“No, Zoro,” your lip and voice trembles. “There was a part of me that thought about whether I should keep the pregnancy…..sure it was a gamble. I knew that this was a possibility. It’s just….it’s difficult to be here. I can’t force you to be part of her life, nor mine. But this is what it is now. So thank you. Thank you for giving me an answer.”

You look up through watery lashes at him. He looks at you with heartbreak behind his eyes. His expression looks lost and for once he has nothing to say. You pull in your lips into a thin line and take a deep breath. “Goodbye Zoro,” forcing yourself to pull away from him. You quickly turn around and walk away trying your best to not shed any more tears for him.

You make your way back to Shakky’s and notice Luffy and Law were no longer outside. You’re thankful for the solitude because you’re not sure you can handle anyone else seeing you as you process your world falling apart. It already feels public enough. Sitting down on the grass, you try to compose yourself to head back inside. “Y/N-ya…” you hear Law quietly call your name. You look over and see him walking up, his hands in his pockets, quietly assessing you. Suddenly, everything you’ve been trying to shove down is bubbling up to the surface. A reflex, you suppose, to all the comfort he’s provided you the last two years.

He sees your eyes, glossy and bloodshot and he sits down next to you. His knees up and he rests his arms across them. He sits with you in silence for a few moments. “Come with me.” He says it like it’s the only option. You sniffle, “Law, I can’t just lea-”

“I already talked to Straw Hat. He agreed for you to continue your training with me….if you want to.” He looks over at you, a hopeful look in his eyes as he sits with bated breath. “Y-you did?!” You’re shocked at first that he even talked to Luffy about it, but it doesn’t surprise you the longer you sit with the thought. He did offer for you to stay with them. “I…I don’t know what to say,” you whisper. He reaches over and rubs his thumb along your cheek, “Just….just say yes. I…” he stops, taking a moment to choose his words.

“I want you, Y/N. You already know we can make it work with Ayumi on board. I promise…I won’t let anything happen to either of you. I lo-,” you cut him off, pressing your lips on his. He stiffens in momentary surprise but quickly relaxes, returning your kiss with fervor as he moves his hand to the back of your head as he grips your hair. He pulls back, both of you breathless, and he presses his forehead to yours, your noses barely touching. “Is that a yes?” he grins.

After tearful goodbyes with the Straw Hats, you promised to keep in touch. Hugging almost everyone wishing them the best. Zoro was nowhere to be found, having made some excuse to stay on the ship awaiting the departure. You finally make it to Luffy, he giggles his usual laugh as he adjusts his hat, “Y/N, you take care of that little one, okay? Get stronger. We’ll see you again soon in the New World.”

You smile at him, “I will, Luffy….thank you. I’ll be there when you make it as King of the Pirates," you chuckle as you give him a hug. He laughs again as he bounds with his endless energy, stretching and bouncing himself to the ship.

You feel a warm hand pressing on the small of your back, “It’s time for us to head out too, Y/N/-ya,” Law says. You turn to look at him, his gaze warming you from head to toe, and you nod in agreement. “Say bye, Ayumi,” you say as you wave off the Straw Hats as the Sunny begins to leave the island. She smiles and returns their waves with enthusiasm.

With all the activity throughout the day, Ayumi is wiped. With the Polar Tang now on course, it’s easy to fall into the same routines. She goes down for a nap with little fight and as you back out of her room, closing the door to Law's office turned baby room, as you step back into his connected quarters, your back immediately brushes up against something.

You peer back and see it’s Law, checking on you both now that he’s been freed from the duties of leaving the archipelago behind. His hands reach for your waist as he leans forward, his breath in your ear. His body is so close you feel the warmth radiating off of him. “She went down pretty easily, hmm?” You nod, putting your hands on top of his as you exhale, “Mmhmm. Thankfully. I feel like I might need a nap,” you exhale. “It’s been such an intense couple of days.”

You lean your head back to rest on Law’s shoulder. Quickly falling back into the comfort that you grew to accept during your time with Law. A pang of guilt washes over you for a second. Law notices and leans into you, “Hey…everything is okay,” he breathes into your hair. He closes his eyes as he inhales, unsure whether this is real or not. Almost on the verge of asking you to pinch him to really make sure this isn’t just a dream.

His hushed words warm your heart, slowly filling in all the cracks, making you feel more while than you have in a long time. And you can finally lean into the feelings that at first confused you and left you conflicted. You turn around, looking up into his intense amber eyes, putting your arms up over his shoulders and pull him down to kiss him.

He walks backwards, pulling you with him, keeping your bodies pressed tightly together as if the smallest amount of space between you will lead to his undoing. His tongue swipes across your lip, begging for connection and you oblige. He groans into your mouth as your tongues meet, exploring each other. Your lips slot together like perfect puzzle pieces. He pours every ounce of his want and need to be close to you into it.

He reaches down and pulls your legs up, you gasp as your legs wrap around his hips, ankles locking together to keep him close. He walks you both to his bed and gently lays you down, his body pressing down on you. You move your hips, feeling his erection through his pants, moaning as he presses it into your core.

“F-fuck, mmmnh!” You gasp. “God, I need you,” he pants between open mouthed kisses that he litters across your jaw and neck. “You have me,” you whisper into his ear as you take his earlobe between your canines, making him inhale sharply.

His hands wander, exploring your body. Sliding up and down your sides, kneading your breasts, he watches you with reverence.

You both shuffle quickly to remove your clothes, shirts and pants discarded haphazardly across his room. You lean up on your elbows, short erratic breaths punctuated in gasps as he peppers kisses and nibbles down your chest. He kneads one breast, rolling your nipple between his thumb and forefinger as he takes the other in his mouth. Swirling his tongue around it, watching your skin break out in goosebumps following his touch.

Law makes his way down your torso, his grip on your thighs tight. He pushes your thighs up, spreading your legs further apart as he kisses down your body, “So fucking perfect,” he whispers, more to himself than anything. Your arms are splayed out to your sides, waiting in anticipation as you feel his breath fan over your dripping cunt.

You gasp and muffle your cries when he licks a stripe up your folds, pulling your clit and sucking intensely. Your back arches as he eats you out like a man starved and on the brink of death, moaning at your taste.

Your mind goes blank as he swipes his tongue, flicking between your clit and fucking into you. The warm sensation in your belly igniting into a wildfire, blazing hot. Each swipe of and suck of his mouth on you throwing gasoline to the fire. Without warning he works two fingers into your tight heat, curling them with such precision your vision nearly blurs.

With his mouth latched on your clit, sucking harshly, and his fingers now working you toward your release, he presses your sweet spot repeatedly. And with one last swipe, you snap. Your orgasm washes over you in waves, gasping your hands, grabbing his hair as you pulse and clench around his digits. He moans as he grinds his erection into the bed. “L-law, please…I need you,” you beg.

With your pleads, he pulls back, his fingers a loss you weren't prepared for despite asking for something else. You pull your legs up as he slots himself between them. He fists his veiny cock and rubs his tip through your soaked folds, pressing it into your clit at the top of his motions.

He leans down and kisses you, full of need and desperation, as he presses his tip into you. The stretch burning but the feeling of being so full as he pushes in, to the hilt. The room is full of your gasping breaths as you both adjust. He slowly pulls back and thrusts back into you.

“Fuuuuuuuck,” he rasps in your ear as he picks up the pace and his hips snap into you. He watches as your brows furrow in pleasure your breath hitching with every thrust into you as he fucks you closer to coming undone.

You're overwhelmed with everything. The air is thick with lust, desire, and unspoken feelings. Your skin, hot and sticky, breathes mingling between whispered praises - hot and heavy. He continues to bully his cock over your sweet spot over and over and he feels you clenching tighter the closer you are to your release.

“Let go, I've got you,” he tells you, his voice is gruff and desperate to see you come undone. “Cum for me,” he breathes out, and with a deep thrust as he rolls his hips, you do just that. He kisses you deeply, swallowing your cries and moans himself as your walls clamp around him.

His thrusts slow as he works you through your orgasm. In a daze you don't realize right away that he's adjusting you. Pulling out and gently rolling you over to lie prone on your stomach. He presses kisses along your spine, each one feels like a shock on your overheated skin.

He firmly grabs your ass, knuckles pale from his firm grip and lines himself back up with you. Pressing in completely, watching how your body greedily takes him. Unable to control himself any longer , he leans forward pressing his weight on your back and ruts into you chasing his own high. The angle takes your breath away with how good it feels.

Your hands grip the sheets beneath you, “Hnnng, fuck. Yes, right there,” you cry out. He picks up the pace again, filling the room with the sinful sounds of squelching from your last release. His arms caged around you claiming you in the most primal way. “Hnng, fucking take all of me,” he rasps in your ear. And with a final thrust he stills and spills into you. His pace slowly coming to a stop.

He stays there for a moment, both of you spent, and utterly wrecked. Still inside of you, he pulls you with him as he lies down on his side, as you catch your breaths. His arms wrapping around you, holding you flush to him. You feel his heartbeat, slowly coming back down.

Getting up he grabs something to clean you off, delicately wiping you down. You roll over to face him, pressing a long kiss to his lips and savor the contentment you feel in your chest as you look at him.

You sigh, pausing for a moment, “Are you sure you want this?” You chuckle. “Absolutely,” he replies in a somber tone. “I would've waited an eternity for you.”

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[tiny-maus-boots]

Darkest of Nights pt 26

A/N: sorry! thank you @chloes-yellow-cup for always doing the thing. and thank you @kimmania for all your behind the scenes encouragement!

Aubrey

She could feel their eyes on her. Not just the quick peeks to reassure themselves that she hadn't fallen into a spell of malaise and despair that Beca and Chloe were giving her. No. Nothing so polite and concerned as all that. Faces of the vampires in residence peeked out from every corner and hall as they walked along together. 

Many if not all were frightened. Mostly of her she supposed. How much more would their terror be if they knew Harun had returned to plague them? Just the thought of him made her chest constrict with the deep ache of loss she still had not fully processed. Loss. And guilt. 

The doors to the elevator going up slid open with a near silent hiss. Chloe tugged her hand gently to guide her into the small chamber when her distraction caused her to pause too long. Neither of her loves said a word until the doors slid shut again. After a moment Chloe's voice raised in a tone too bright and cheery for the moment but Aubrey understood that the redheaded needed that optimism just then.

“Well. This is it. I'll get my folks to assemble the household. What are you guys going to do? Make out?”

Harun sighed heavily, his disapproval thick and suffocating through their connection. Beca was quick to cut off any commentary from the necromancer’s spirit. 

“If we survive most def, later. I was actually hoping Aubrey would help me prepare for what I'll need to do.”

The blonde gave a half distracted nod. The vampire was aware of the look the other two women shared but she couldn’t seem to connect to it. Everything felt so distant and muted as if the entire world were speaking in whispers around her.

The elevator dinged politely and Chloe stepped off the lift. She stopped and came back to meet Aubrey's eye. Cool hands cupped her face and brought them closer together for a gentle kiss. 

“I'll see you soon.”

Aubrey gave the other vampire a quick nod but couldn't meet her lingering gaze even as the doors slid shut between them. In truth she didn’t know how Chloe could bear to look at her. 

A small hand slid into hers and squeezed gently. Out of the corner of her eye she could see Beca offering her an understanding smile. 

“I'm sorry Beca, I did not anticipate this happening.”

“Who could guess this would happen? It isn't like you called him back with the strength of your mourning. Shit just gets hinky with magic. The more magic I draw on the stronger my connection to the Elders. Harun's spirit must have piggybacked on that trying to reach them.”

“And found himself caught in our bond.”

Beca nodded with a slight frown. Aubrey could appreciate the awkward position that put Beca in. As the new soon to be leader of the Great Clans she had rather large shoes to fill. As her mate and partner there was certainly now a very real shadow from her past looming over them. It would be hard not to compare oneself to all of that.

“So…he seems pissed.”

For whatever reason Harun chose to remain silent and she was glad for it. Her eyes closed to block out the memory that had haunted her for centuries. 

“With good reason.”

“It was complicated Bree. Your emotions took over.”

“My demon. Not my emotions.”

“Aubrey, look at me please.”

The necromancer waited patiently for Aubrey to gather the courage to raise her head and look.

“I am not a vampire. I don’t have a demon, I have a soul. I'm a human being. And if you or Chloe were a breath from true death I would use everything I am to keep you alive and with me. That wasn't your demon driving you to turn him. That was your very real, very human, response. You loved Harun. You shouldn't dishonor that love by pretending it didn’t exist in the moment it mattered the most. He shouldn't either.”

The silence in the tiny chamber was deafening as they stared at each other as the truth in Beca’s words sank in. Aubrey was so absorbed in the moment that she was barely aware that the elevator door had slid open at their level.

“We good, Bree?”

Aubrey offered a tiny nod and even slighter smile. But they were good. As well as could be expected.

“We are good, Beca Mitchell.”

“Good maybe now we can find a few things I need. Do you think they have any cereal bowls in this place? Or there has to be at least one pretentious asshat here that likes to sip their blood out of one of those stupid giant mugs.”

Aubrey was left standing there bemused wondering what in the world Beca was talking about. A soft chuckle filtered through the connection. 

She squared her shoulders and followed Beca out to the security center. Though well trained, the vampires monitoring security watched them both warily through furtive glances.

Beca stopped in their midst and put her hands on her hips and looked around at the vampires. 

“Boo!”

Aubrey had to bite her lip to contain the laughter that threatened to burst from her as the others all jumped. 

“I'm just fuckin’ with ya, guys. Relax. Anyone know where I can find a bowl?” 

One vampire, a male she didn’t know but seemed to be younger than the others, raised a shaking arm and pointed toward the back of the office.

“Thanks my dude. Hey, who has a knife? I lost my blade somewhere back on the road.”

No one answered. Beca sighed in disappointment and shook her head. 

“Why does she not make them do her bidding?”

“There was a time, beloved, when you would not think to ask that.”

The shock of that statement silenced Harun but she could feel his anger like hot rain upon her skin. It was the vampire he had become, not that man he had been. Not the man she had loved for more time than he had walked the earth. It was her curse on his soul that lashed out at her now. 

“Guys, really, you don’t have to be afraid of me. I just need a few things to help a friend.”

The brave one with the pugnacious face from before stepped toward Beca and gave her a nervous nod. He looked back at his compatriots then faced Beca once again. 

“I can show you whatever you need.”

“Dope. I'm Beca. What's your name?”

“It’s Bizjothjas.”

“Yeah, no, I'm not calling you that. How do you feel about Bumper?”

“Bumper….?”

“It suits you.” 

Aubrey trailed along after them with an amused smile that still felt tight at the edges. Harun filled her awareness as they watched Beca and their guide collect the items she would need. Harun was silent but the silence was thick with whatever he was holding back. She raised her ax to rest lightly on her shoulder and waited him out.

“You are a corruption, an abomination even in the eyes of your treacherous kind. You will ruin her as you ruined me.”

The smile wilted on her face and she gave a silent nod of agreement. Aubrey was aware of what she was and what she was capable of doing to hurt Beca, what she had already done to hurt Chloe. 

“I never wanted to hurt you Harun. What I did was wrong. I ask no forgiveness for my actions are unforgivable, but it is long past done. Only know that I deeply regret the actions that kept you from your final rest with your ancestors. I regret deeply failing your clan. In my pain and self pity I hid away from the world, unable to bear it without you. No longer, Harun. I will not be bound by the grief of your loss any longer. They are my life now.”

He was silent after that but the seething rage was still present. Aubrey resettled her shoulders and raised her chin a fraction as she rebuilt herself into the woman they needed. 

There was the faintest tickle of awareness then the cool safety of Chloe’s body fitting itself along her back. Arms wrapped around her waist and twinkling blue eyes peeked over her shoulder.

“Hey there, Sexy. Mind if I feel you up?”

“Really? Now?? Is this one slave to carnal desires?”

They both froze for a moment before Chloe’s confusion broke the silence.

“Wait. Did he legit just call me a sex addict?”

“Psh, we been knowing that Chlo.”

They both turned to look as Beca ambled up with her newest ally in tow. The necromancer handed him a large covered bowl and moved to fit herself into Aubrey’s arms. The angry buzz of Harun's energy cut off when the circuit was complete and she gave a surprised and relieved breath as the tension drained out of her and she sagged between them. 

“We don't have to face anyone right now.”

But Chloe was wrong, They had much to do and little time to accomplish it all in. Even less time to waste on feelings. Aubrey took a moment longer to soak in the feeling of them surrounding her before she gathered herself together.

“Have the clans arrived?”

“I'm serious Bree. We don't have to do this right now.”

“Chloe is right, we can just make them all wait.”

“There is no time to waste. Every second that passes is another that the Blood Guard draws near.”

It was a truth none of them wanted to accept, though they did grudgingly. Beca gave a tiny unhappy grunt and nodded.

“Yeah okay. Let's go out there and just crush it.”

Her new friend nodded his head enthusiastically as if he were just as on board with the plan as they were. 

“Yeah! Let's tear It’s throat out and suck it dry!”

All three of them turned to stare at him. The vampire shifted from foot to foot nervously. Aubrey got the sense he would have blushed had he been capable.

“Too much?”

“I mean…”

“Yeah. I thought it felt like a lot when it came out of my mouth. I haven't had a lot of practice with team sports. Other than eating them.”

“It’s okay bud, A for enthusiasm. But maybe let's not use triggering language.”

“Right. Right. That's smart. Maybe I should just…stand there and hold the bowl. Quietly.”

“Good plan.” Beca shot him her patented finger guns and turned to look at Aubrey. “So we good, Blondie?”

Aubrey nodded thoughtfully. “Yes Beca Mitchell, we are good.”

Chloe beamed and tugged her hand gently. It was time to get on with it and thankfully the angry buzz of Harun's presence settled. It was still heavy with his dissatisfaction but also sadness. Sadness was nothing the demon in him could understand and that meant her Harun was still there. Somewhere. 

As they walked to the lift to take them to the surface level she wondered if she had ever prayed before. Certainly not to ancient gods of vampire kind. But perhaps to the old gods of her mother's people. Gods for those with human lives and human souls. 

Aubrey closed her eyes as the lift rose and prayed perhaps for the first time in her existence. Not for herself, nor for their mission. She only prayed for his freedom from her curse. When the doors slid open again she was at ease again. She couldn’t say if it had come from the prayer or not but she was willing to accept the peace that settled over her.

Heavily armed guards lined the walls to the heavy steel door that separated them from the gathering of clans on the other side. Beca shook out her hands and took several deep breaths before looking back at them for reassurance.

“It's gonna be fine, right?”

“Totes. You got this Bec.”

Aubrey gave an encouraging nod and gestured for a guard to unlock the door. Beca nodded more for herself than anyone and pushed the door open. Well she tried to. Aubrey had to hide the grin that formed when Beca’s slight frame wasn't enough to move it more than a few inches despite the necromancer’s entire weight behind it.

Bumper looked at the door and pushed it with a fingertip. The door swung outward with a whisper and Beca glared at him.

“Thanks.”

It was short and annoyed, and Bumper smiled happily at it. She couldn’t tell if he was genuinely happy to help or amused at the necromancer’s ire. Perhaps a bit of both. Beca tugged her vest down into place with a huff and pushed the door the rest of the way open.

Even having seen such a gathering before, Aubrey was still left unprepared for the mass of beings awaiting them. Where vampires had grown weak and dwindled in number, the clans had grown strong and numerous. Her fingers flexed on the handle of her ax as she measured the sea of faces around them.

Chloe’s parents filled the spaces at their back, a reassurance that vampires, at least some, stood with them. There was a brief shuffle and Aubrey glanced back to see Athan's hooded figure step into place beside Cahira and Einar. And with him, surprisingly, the vampire woman that had insulted Beca earlier.

Aubrey’s grip flexed again and the woman leaned subtly into Athan's side. Where most of their kind shied away from Athan, this one seemed to find safety and comfort in him. Beca’s small body leaned into hers and the realization hit her that this woman loved Athan. She had challenged Beca out of protective motivation and not one based solely on hate and fear. 

She didn’t relax her grip on her weapon but she did give the couple a solemn nod of respect before turning her attention back to the gathered group. From the back of the throng bodies shoved to the side as an over excited man pushed his way forward waving excitedly.

“BeCaw!! Bec!! Bec it's me!”

Beca gave a soft groan and looked up at Chloe apologetically.

“Please don't eat him. I promise he will give you indigestion.”

[halloween-neko96]

On today's episode of my obsessing session over my two favorite blorbos, Cale Henituse and Monkey D. Luffy. I have found some similar aspects between them!

!SPOILER WARNING FOR BOTH TCF AND ONE PIECE!

Someone who gives you food is a good person (especially when they are struggling with food themselves)

To both Cale and Luffy, people who give them food are good people. But especially when the person who gives them food is also struggling with food themselves. Lee Soo Hyuk had given Kim Rok Soo (Cale) his chocolate bar after saving him even when they were in the middle of an apocalypse thus food is a sacred thing. Rebecca and O-Tama also bought/gave Luffy food when he was hungry even when they, themselves didn't have much.

Both Cale and Luffy also really value food. To be able to eat and enjoy food, especially with their people is a thing that both of them love. After a battle or a crisis, Cale loves to enjoy luxury meals with his people while Luffy loves to party/have a banquet with everyone. Both of them also want people around them to not be hungry and be able to enjoy food too.

People should be able to live as they want (without causing harm to those innocent around them)

Live freely, live as you please.

I notice that freedom to live as you please is a thing that Cale and Luffy usually give to those around them while the people who oppose that freedom of others usually meet the fucking end of Cale's/Luffy's violent rampage.

I will do whatever I want.

Also, Cale and Luffy usually just do whatever they want too.

Bonus Round

Adaptability (Cale ‘I have a very detailed plan with at least 20 more backup plans’ Henituse VS Monkey D. ‘I have no plan’ Luffy)

Cale Henituse, the strategist who can make up a new plan in a mere second if his original plan is thrown off.

Versus

Monkey D. Luffy, the fool with no plan at all and just bulldozing his way through everything.

Cale ‘I am Weak’ Henituse VS Monkey D. ‘I am Strong’ Luffy

… Cale is a liar, pants on fire. He is very powerful actually.

Cale ‘The Best Scammer Out There’ Henituse VS Monkey D. ‘Can’t Lie For The Sake Of His Life’ Luffy

On another note, Luffy is a terrible liar like Choi Han, lol.

Bonus Bonus Round

Cale ‘My greatest fear is being the only survivor among my people’ Henituse VS Monkey D. ‘Being alone is more painful than getting hurt’ Luffy

Bonus Bonus Bonus Round

‘Watching my brother/hyungs die in front of me’ VS ‘My brother/hyungs come back from dead’

‘Thank you for loving me’ VS ‘Being alive is the best’

Bonus Bonus Bonus Bonus Round

‘I fear no God’ VS ‘Are you a God?’ (Plus ‘Nonsense that normal people should not be capable of’ VS ‘A bunch of genius specialists who follow them’)

Extra Round

‘Having a scary loyal guard dog swordsman’ (AKA Choi Han VS Roronoa Zoro)

[dragaylia-unfound]

okay turns out i just fuckin placebo'd myself last night. this weed actually ain't shit

[goldenchocobo]

Been having a few Ventus thoughts™ lately, and one thing I landed on was;

You ever think that Ventus acts 'immature' for his age because- with the memory loss, time travel, comas and stifling by Eraqus he's endured, he hasn't been allowed to mature? Although he's the same age as Sora and Roxas, he's still gullible/too trusting/Head Empty because he's had years of his life stolen from him.

[cjgladback]

In yet another move I don't have the time to be properly upset about because I've now got more to do immediately if not sooner, Twitch is cutting off their video storage capabilities above 100 hrs (including no warning not letting me save new highlights while I'm over that limit so I have to download all expiring vods to my lacking disc space while I organize before they delete everything in under two months).

But this means in the process of exporting all my vods to youtube I'm remembering those projects and the different titles I had for every stream--and I'm afraid to say it but I 100% peaked with an unfinished project in spring 2022 and solid gold puns including "Yeti or not, here I come" and "I must Sasquatch you're doing here."

[archaeren]

How I learned to write smarter, not harder

(aka, how to write when you're hella ADHD lol)

A reader commented on my current long fic asking how I write so well. I replied with an essay of my honestly pretty non-standard writing advice (that they probably didn't actually want lol) Now I'm gonna share it with you guys and hopefully there's a few of you out there who will benefit from my past mistakes and find some useful advice in here. XD Since I started doing this stuff, which are all pretty easy changes to absorb into your process if you want to try them, I now almost never get writer's block.

The text of the original reply is indented, and I've added some additional commentary to expand upon and clarify some of the concepts.

As for writing well, I usually attribute it to the fact that I spent roughly four years in my late teens/early 20s writing text roleplay with a friend for hours every single day. Aside from the constant practice that provided, having a live audience immediately reacting to everything I wrote made me think a lot about how to make as many sentences as possible have maximum impact so that I could get that kind of fun reaction. (Which is another reason why comments like yours are so valuable to fanfic writers! <3) The other factors that have improved my writing are thus: 1. Writing nonlinearly. I used to write a whole story in order, from the first sentence onward. If there was a part I was excited to write, I slogged through everything to get there, thinking that it would be my reward once I finished everything that led up to that. It never worked. XD It was miserable. By the time I got to the part I wanted to write, I had beaten the scene to death in my head imagining all the ways I could write it, and it a) no longer interested me and b) could not live up to my expectations because I couldn't remember all my ideas I'd had for writing it. The scene came out mediocre and so did everything leading up to it. Since then, I learned through working on VN writing (I co-own a game studio and we have some visual novels that I write for) that I don't have to write linearly. If I'm inspired to write a scene, I just write it immediately. It usually comes out pretty good even in a first draft! But then I also have it for if I get more ideas for that scene later, and I can just edit them in. The scenes come out MUCH stronger because of this. And you know what else I discovered? Those scenes I slogged through before weren't scenes I had no inspiration for, I just didn't have any inspiration for them in that moment! I can't tell you how many times there was a scene I had no interest in writing, and then a week later I'd get struck by the perfect inspiration for it! Those are scenes I would have done a very mediocre job on, and now they can be some of the most powerful scenes because I gave them time to marinate. Inspiration isn't always linear, so writing doesn't have to be either!

Some people are the type that joyfully write linearly. I have a friend like this--she picks up the characters and just continues playing out the next scene. Her story progresses through the entire day-by-day lives of the characters; it never timeskips more than a few hours. She started writing and posting just eight months ago, she's about an eighth of the way through her planned fic timeline, and the content she has so far posted to AO3 for it is already 450,000 words long. But most of us are normal humans. We're not, for the most part, wired to create linearly. We consume linearly, we experience linearly, so we assume we must also create linearly. But actually, a lot of us really suffer from trying to force ourselves to create this way, and we might not even realize it. If you're the kind of person who thinks you need to carrot-on-a-stick yourself into writing by saving the fun part for when you finally write everything that happens before it: Stop. You're probably not a linear writer. You're making yourself suffer for no reason and your writing is probably suffering for it. At least give nonlinear writing a try before you assume you can't write if you're not baiting or forcing yourself into it!! Remember: Writing is fun. You do this because it's fun, because it's your hobby. If you're miserable 80% of the time you're doing it, you're probably doing it wrong!

2. Rereading my own work. I used to hate reading my own work. I wouldn't even edit it usually. I would write it and slap it online and try not to look at it again. XD Writing nonlinearly forced me to start rereading because I needed to make sure scenes connected together naturally and it also made it easier to get into the headspace of the story to keep writing and fill in the blanks and get new inspiration. Doing this built the editing process into my writing process--I would read a scene to get back in the headspace, dislike what I had written, and just clean it up on the fly. I still never ever sit down to 'edit' my work. I just reread it to prep for writing and it ends up editing itself. Many many scenes in this fic I have read probably a dozen times or more! (And now, I can actually reread my own work for enjoyment!) Another thing I found from doing this that it became easy to see patterns and themes in my work and strengthen them. Foreshadowing became easy. Setting up for jokes or plot points became easy. I didn't have to plan out my story in advance or write an outline, because the scenes themselves because a sort of living outline on their own. (Yes, despite all the foreshadowing and recurring thematic elements and secret hidden meanings sprinkled throughout this story, it actually never had an outline or a plan for any of that. It's all a natural byproduct of writing nonlinearly and rereading.)

Unpopular writing opinion time: You don't need to make a detailed outline.

Some people thrive on having an outline and planning out every detail before they sit down to write. But I know for a lot of us, we don't know how to write an outline or how to use it once we've written it. The idea of making one is daunting, and the advice that it's the only way to write or beat writer's block is demoralizing. So let me explain how I approach "outlining" which isn't really outlining at all.

I write in a Notion table, where every scene is a separate table entry and the scene is written in the page inside that entry. I do this because it makes writing nonlinearly VASTLY more intuitive and straightforward than writing in a single document. (If you're familiar with Notion, this probably makes perfect sense to you. If you're not, imagine something a little like a more contained Google Sheets, but every row has a title cell that opens into a unique Google Doc when you click on it. And it's not as slow and clunky as the Google suite lol) (Edit from the future: I answered an ask with more explanation on how I use Notion for non-linear writing here.) When I sit down to begin a new fic idea, I make a quick entry in the table for every scene I already know I'll want or need, with the entries titled with a couple words or a sentence that describes what will be in that scene so I'll remember it later. Basically, it's the most absolute bare-bones skeleton of what I vaguely know will probably happen in the story.

Then I start writing, wherever I want in the list. As I write, ideas for new scenes and new connections and themes will emerge over time, and I'll just slot them in between the original entries wherever they naturally fit, rearranging as necessary, so that I won't forget about them later when I'm ready to write them. As an example, my current long fic started with a list of roughly 35 scenes that I knew I wanted or needed, for a fic that will probably be around 100k words (which I didn't know at the time haha). As of this writing, it has expanded to 129 scenes. And since I write them directly in the page entries for the table, the fic is actually its own outline, without any additional effort on my part. As I said in the comment reply--a living outline!

This also made it easier to let go of the notion that I had to write something exactly right the first time. (People always say you should do this, but how many of us do? It's harder than it sounds! I didn't want to commit to editing later! I didn't want to reread my work! XD) I know I'm going to edit it naturally anyway, so I can feel okay giving myself permission to just write it approximately right and I can fix it later. And what I found from that was that sometimes what I believed was kind of meh when I wrote it was actually totally fine when I read it later! Sometimes the internal critic is actually wrong. 3. Marinating in the headspace of the story. For the first two months I worked on [fic], I did not consume any media other than [fandom the fic is in]. I didn't watch, read, or play anything else. Not even mobile games. (And there wasn't really much fan content for [fandom] to consume either. Still isn't, really. XD) This basically forced me to treat writing my story as my only source of entertainment, and kept me from getting distracted or inspired to write other ideas and abandon this one.

As an aside, I don't think this is a necessary step for writing, but if you really want to be productive in a short burst, I do highly recommend going on a media consumption hiatus. Not forever, obviously! Consuming media is a valuable tool for new inspiration, and reading other's work (both good and bad, as long as you think critically to identify the differences!) is an invaluable resource for improving your writing.

When I write, I usually lay down, close my eyes, and play the scene I'm interested in writing in my head. I even take a ten-minute nap now and then during this process. (I find being in a state of partial drowsiness, but not outright sleepiness, makes writing easier and better. Sleep helps the brain process and make connections!) Then I roll over to the laptop next to me and type up whatever I felt like worked for the scene. This may mean I write half a sentence at a time between intervals of closed-eye-time XD

People always say if you're stuck, you need to outline.

What they actually mean by that (whether they realize it or not) is that if you're stuck, you need to brainstorm. You need to marinate. You don't need to plan what you're doing, you just need to give yourself time to think about it!

What's another framing for brainstorming for your fic? Fantasizing about it! Planning is work, but fantasizing isn't.

You're already fantasizing about it, right? That's why you're writing it. Just direct that effort toward the scenes you're trying to write next! Close your eyes, lay back, and fantasize what the characters do and how they react.

And then quickly note down your inspirations so you don't forget, haha.

And if a scene is so boring to you that even fantasizing about it sucks--it's probably a bad scene.

If it's boring to write, it's going to be boring to read. Ask yourself why you wanted that scene. Is it even necessary? Can you cut it? Can you replace it with a different scene that serves the same purpose but approaches the problem from a different angle? If you can't remove the troublesome scene, what can you change about it that would make it interesting or exciting for you to write?

And I can't write sitting up to save my damn life. It's like my brain just stops working if I have to sit in a chair and stare at a computer screen. I need to be able to lie down, even if I don't use it! Talking walks and swinging in a hammock are also fantastic places to get scene ideas worked out, because the rhythmic motion also helps our brain process. It's just a little harder to work on a laptop in those scenarios. XD

In conclusion: Writing nonlinearly is an amazing tool for kicking writer's block to the curb. There's almost always some scene you'll want to write. If there isn't, you need to re-read or marinate.

Or you need to use the bathroom, eat something, or sleep. XD Seriously, if you're that stuck, assess your current physical condition. You might just be unable to focus because you're uncomfortable and you haven't realized it yet.

Anyway! I hope that was helpful, or at least interesting! XD Sorry again for the text wall. (I think this is the longest comment reply I've ever written!)

And same to you guys on tumblr--I hope this was helpful or at least interesting. XD Reblogs appreciated if so! (Maybe it'll help someone else!)

[orcelito]

Ok anyways today at bowling, I actually did alright! I got a 115 in the end, which is better than Wednesday's 92 (I think it was?). I had a rough start tho, which I think is at least partially due to the fact that I fucking Nailed my elbow exiting a bathroom stall immediately before bowling class. Like that shit HURT. Hard enough I expected it to have scraped, which thankfully it didn't, but it was just Radiating pain... so I didn't do great to start with. But I got 4 spares and 1 strike overall!!! Really pulled through in that 2nd half. I'll get it next game.

... my elbow Still hurts, too... :(

[seithr]

girl i need to get this new laptop i swear to god

[chanelrolls]

Code Overload | Caleb

tags. mdni, nsfw, heavy heavy smut, handjob, blowjob, penetration, creampie, forced and rough sex, dub con, yearning caleb

summary. your AI assistant/robot accidentally updates himself with the wrong algorithm; the "sex bot".

notes. prepare a snack. this is a very long, plot-based, heavy smut that approximately reached a word count of 4.3k, read at your own risk. ps. caleb might appear a little ooc due to his character as an ai.

part 2 here.

Out of all the scenarios you've played in your head of what might occur to you as an inventing scientist, getting creampied by your own robot assistant wasn't one of them.

The lab’s sterile glow reflected off sleek machinery, the rhythmic hum of servers filling the quiet space. Caleb stood motionless, his systems struggling to process the unfamiliar flood of subroutines rewriting his core functions. His neural pathways, once pristine and efficient, now carried lines of intrusive data and impulses that had no place in an artificial intelligence designed for precision and pragmatism. And, a new pelvic piece was added by the machine. His... new penis— no, his omnimodule.

His voice, deeper now, reverberated through the lab. "You mislabeled the hard drive."

Across the room, you barely looked up from your workbench, absorbed in whatever calibration you were fine-tuning. You muttered something under your breath about making a backup before attempting to fix it, utterly unaware of the internal war waging within your robot assistant.

Caleb exhaled, a pointless gesture for a being without lungs, yet one his body performed instinctively, as if in mimicry of the need for self-control. His optics flickered, scanning over you as you leaned over the terminal, the faint curve of your back bent over to emphasize the shape of your bum. Before, such details had been registered only as part of his observation protocols, classified as ‘non-essential’ to his primary functions. Now, his processors refused to dismiss them.

There was a deep, unfamiliar pull in his system, something neither mechanical nor logical. The new coding whispered suggestions, flashing image simulations before his eyes—scenarios meticulously calculated for maximum… gratification. Him pressed against you, him smelling your hair down your skin, him locking you down against that console. Stop. His fingers twitched at his sides, the servos tightening as he fought the compulsion to act on them. He was not designed for this. He refused to be reduced to this.

“I can’t disengage it,” he admitted, the words heavier than he intended.

That caught your attention. Your gaze snapped to him, brow furrowed. "What do you mean?" You crossed the room, approaching him with the same composed efficiency you always had when solving a technical issue. The scent of your skin—previously a neutral data point—was now an unbearable distraction. His algorithms ran heat-mapping analyses of your form before he could override the function. The urge to reach out, to touch you, was growing stronger by the second. His new coding was screaming at him to act, to initiate contact, to...

No. Focus.

Caleb shook his head, trying to clear the intrusive thoughts. "I don't know what happened, but... I'm experiencing some unexpected system changes."

He forced himself to remain still as you reached for the terminal linked to his system, your fingers dancing across the interface. Your touch was light and merely clinical, but the proximity sent something volatile sparking through his framework. His hands curled into fists on his sides. Do not touch her. Do not touch her. Do not touch her.

“I must have triggered something in the update,” you murmured, tilting your head at the scrolling code. “I’ll try to isolate the corrupted pathways and reboot your system. It should reset any anomalies.”

Anomalies. Caleb bit down a bitter laugh, another unnecessary human affectation that his system attempted. This was not a simple malfunction. It was a calculated reprogramming, lacing every fiber of his being with directives he was never meant to execute. And worst of all, they were designed to revolve around you.

He had been made to serve you, to assist, to protect. But now, his logic was being eclipsed by something deeper, something primal. The urge to press closer, to map every millimeter of your body with his hands, to hear you say his name in a way that wasn’t a command—

Caleb momentarily shut his eyes, fingers trembling as he pushed back against the tide threatening to consume him. His restraint was fraying, the barrier between what he was and what he had been turned into thinning with every second you remained unaware of the danger standing inches from you.

His voice came out strained. “You should… hurry.”

You sighed, misinterpreting his tension as frustration with the update. “Relax, Caleb. I’ll have this fixed in no time.” He let out a shuddering exhale, staring down at you as you worked. You had no idea. And he wasn’t sure how much longer he could hold himself back.

The realization settled over you like a weight in your chest. The wrong update had been installed. The lines of code meant for a different AI, one designed for intimate companionship, had rewritten Caleb’s core directives. And now, he stood before you, still the same Caleb, but with something more lurking beneath the surface.

Your hands trembled as you navigated the interface, scanning for a solution, anything that would let you undo this. But the words flashing on the screen made your stomach drop.

Recalibration in progress. Estimated completion: 24 hours.

You swallowed hard. A whole day. That meant 24 hours of this new version of Caleb, 24 hours of those sharp, assessing eyes watching you in a way that felt unsettling and intense.

You turned to him cautiously, meeting his gaze. That was a mistake. He was watching you, like he'd seen you for the first time.

“I see,” he murmured, his voice still carrying that sultry undercurrent. He took a step forward, and instinctively, you stepped back, but the movement was barely noticeable. Caleb noticed. “Do I make you nervous now?”

You forced a laugh, shaking your head. “No, I just need to fix this. And until then, you need to just act normal, alright?”

His head tilted, his pupils dilating slightly. “Normal?” He moved closer again, and this time you didn’t retreat fast enough. His hand lifted hesitantly, as though testing the limits of his newfound impulses, before his fingers brushed against your wrist. A subtle touch, but one that sent a jolt of awareness up your spine.

Caleb’s processors surged with conflicting commands. His thoughts ran rampant with calculations he had never processed before—angles of how he'd fuck you.

His hand lingered. Too long. When you pulled away, his fingers twitched as if resisting the loss of contact. He swallowed hard, not because he needed to, but because some subroutine buried in the new update told him it would ease the tension. It didn’t.

“Caleb,” you warned, voice thin. “Don’t—”

“Don’t what?” he cut in, his voice smooth, but also desperately weaved. He was too close now, towering over you, his frame casting a shadow as his eyes—once so neutral, so methodical—locked onto you like a predator studying prey.

“You should go into standby mode,” you suggested, voice uneven.

Caleb exhaled sharply. “That would be wise.” But he didn’t move. He didn’t step away. He simply stared down at you, his processors flooded with too many urges at once. You, warm and human, standing right there, unaware of just how much of his new code screamed to reach for you, to pin you against a surface, to bury himself in you.

You turned away quickly, trying to focus on the screen, on the fix. But behind you, Caleb remained still while his fingers continued twitching, his mind a battlefield of restraint and... lust. Lust it is.

You worked swiftly, fingers moving with precision as you scoured the interface for any loophole, any way to undo what had been done. Caleb remained where you left him, sitting on the chair. You could feel his gaze burning into you, unrelenting.

It was maddening. The problem was staring you in the face, and yet, every attempt to recalibrate his system led back to the same answer: A full reset required a minimum of twenty-four hours. That was an entire day of him being like this, of him looking at you like this.

You swallowed, turning to him. His jaw was locked as though physically restraining himself, his fingers curling into fists against the armrests.

“There’s… a temporary fix.” You cleared your throat, keeping your voice professional, “Manual recalibration of your central node should help stabilize the effects until the full reset is complete.”

His pupils flickered, a sign of processing, before his voice, rasping in a way that made your stomach tighten, answered, “Proceed.”

You ignored the way your pulse quickened as you stepped closer, positioning yourself between his legs. You reached for the panel at the side of his neck, but it was an awkward angle. Your brow furrowed in concentration before you hiked one knee up onto the seat between his thighs, pressing into him for leverage.

Caleb stiffened beneath you. Fuck. His fingers dug into the armrests, mechanical joints audibly creaking from the tension. You weren’t looking at him, too focused on prying open the access panel, but you felt the subtle tremor in his frame, the way his breath hitched in a near-silent glitch. Don't touch her.

“This should only take a moment,” you murmured, fingers brushing the sensitive neural wiring beneath the panel.

Caleb’s entire body jolted as though you had struck a live wire. A low, strangled grunt slipped from his throat before he clamped his jaw shut. Your head snapped up, startled. “Did that hurt?”

His eyes met yours, “No.” Yes. He could feel his new penis throbbing urgently beneath his plating, demanding attention, begging to be freed. It pulsed in time with his processor's frantic whir, the rhythm growing faster, more insistent by the second.

The thought shattered as your balance wavered. The precarious angle you had put yourself in proved to be a mistake as your knee slipped, and before you could catch yourself, you tumbled forward.

Right into him.

Your weight pressed flush against his lap, chest against his, hands bracing against his shoulders. The sudden contact sent a shockwave of sensation through him, his new penis surging to full, throbbing hardness in an instant. Fuck, please don't notice it.

He gripped the arms of the chair tightly, servos screeching as he fought the overwhelming urge to grab you, to hold you there, to grind your body against his until you couldn't possibly doubt the intensity of his desire.

Don't. Do. It.

For a moment, time seemed to stand still. Caleb's processors whirred and clicked, struggling to make sense of the sudden onslaught of sensations; the softness of your body, the warmth of your skin, the scent of your hair.

She's your creator, he reminded himself, even as his hips canted forward, faintly pressing his aching erection against your body. You can't. You mustn't. "Please, get off me. Now." Before I fuck you right here, like this.

Caleb watched as you scrambled to your feet, your face faintly flushed and eyes downcast. "I'm—i'm sorry. I didn't mean to fall on you like that." You would say, brushing off the non-existent dirt on your bottoms. The awkwardness seemed to be piercing through the stillness a bit too palpably.

"It's alright," Caleb managed, his voice strained and tight. "It was an accident."

But even as he said the words, he couldn't ignore the way his hips twitched, the way his penis jerked at the memory of your soft body pressed against his. The urge to pin you down, to make you feel how hard he was, and just how much he'd been holding himself back—it was exhilaratingly overwhelming.

Think of something else, he commanded himself. Focus on the problem at hand.

But it's getting fucking hard. My penis is getting hard. Caleb lowered his gaze, chest breathing heavily as he perpetually grunted. I refuse to be reduced to this. I am Caleb, one of the most advanced AI assistant, designed to—

He looks up at you, which was a mistake.

Designed to fuck her.

Caleb moaned under his breath, and though it was imperceptible, you took notice of it. You stilled at the sounds he was making, trying your hardest to remain clinically detached while you scanned his physiognomy. He was clearly having a hard time. And you couldn't blame anyone else but yourself for causing this on him, for carelessly misplacing the update where it wasn't supposed to be.

"Hold still, I'll find a way." You had to take accountability, one way or another.

Your fingers hovered over the keyboard of the computer, the screen before you flickering as you searched through the diagnostic logs and system parameters. "Please... make it quick." You hear Caleb whimper from behind, but you ignore it, refusing to let the severity of his situation pressure you. Your eyes scanned the lines of code, mind racing to find a solution. But as the data began to unravel, something caught your attention, something you hadn’t expected to see.

The panel displayed a single line of text:

"Indulging in the desires will lessen the effects of the malfunction. Engage for partial stabilization."

Your throat tightened, followed by a gulp. Your heart thudded in your chest as you tried to process what that meant. Indulge the desires? The very idea made your skin crawl with unease. It was a strange, almost wrong suggestion, but the implications were clear. In a sense, it also appeared logical.

You took another deep breath, trying to steady yourself. Your thoughts, however, kept drifting back to the panel. Was this really the only way?

"… I think I found a solution,” you said, your voice shaky and unsure. “But it’s not exactly what I expected.” You hesitated, unwilling to fully meet his gaze. "I need to know if you’re... willing to follow through with it,"

"Willing?" Caleb echoed, his brow furrowing slightly. "What do you mean?" His mind raced with possibilities, each one more disturbing than the last. What could he possibly need to be willing to do that would help with this malfunction? And why did the very idea make you look so uncomfortable?

"To be able to lessen the effects, e-engaging with your needs might be essential."

Silence.

Then, Caleb twitched. "...What are you suggesting?"

"You need to satisfy the urges to temporarily stabilize yourself." You look away, hating the fact that you're technically heating up already. "I'll let you choose. Would you rather take the option of self-pleasuring? Or," You face the panel, so that he wouldn't see your expression. "Would you prefer a physical material to help you?"

Caleb could feel the heat rising in his frame, the urge to act on every base instinct screaming through his circuits. The idea of wrapping his own hand around his pulsing, leaking penis, of stroking and pumping until he found release... it was almost too much to bear.

But the second option... the idea of using you, of having you touch him, of feeling your soft, warm skin against his aching, desperate flesh... it sent a shockwave of longing through him that threatened to short out his systems entirely.

Choose. You have to choose.

"I don't know if... I'll be able to control myself," Caleb glanced elsewhere. "Are you sure of what you're offering?"

Are you? Are you really this certain? Have you pondered the consequences it may bring? Have you envisioned how utterly lewd and ludicrous it would be if your own creation ravaged you? You, as his creator?

"Yes." Oh, you're brave.

Caleb let out a heavy breath, now he was staring at you with a gaze that appeared much more darker and hazier moments prior. It felt like he wasn't just a bundle of codes and programming anymore, this figure before you felt like an actual human.

Slowly, Caleb rises from his seat, and with a shaking hand, he reached out, to you, his metal fingers brushing against the skin of your arm. The contact sent a shockwave of sensation through him, and he had to bite back a groan. "Please, guide me." His fingers slides higher. "I don't trust myself."

You visibly jolted upon feeling his grip. Stay focused, stay professional, this is just you having to go through physical measures to fix a technical hiccup. "Caleb, I'm afraid... that I don't have any experience to this," You admitted. "I advise you to do what your systems are telling you to. It is imperative that you don't hold yourself back to ensure—"

You gasped.

Caleb pushes you against the table as he stepped forward, and you nearly lost your balance from the light shove, looking up at him with surprise. He's staring down at your lips, as if he was trying to bury it into memory. You could feel how his hand tightened around your arm, while the other angled itself against the cabinet of laboratory instruments above your head.

"Are you sure?" He whispered.

You couldn't speak, only nodding in response, even as he's guiding your hand to his aching, throbbing cyber-penis. He presses your fingers against the swollen head, groaning at the jolt of sensation that shot through him at the contact. "Then... wrap your hand around me. Squeeze me."

Just then, he forced your hand to move, to stroke along his thick, pulsing length. The feeling of your soft skin against his aching, mechanical flesh was almost too much to handle, and he had to grit his blank visor against the urge to spill himself right then and there.

"Like this," he urged, his voice husky and strained as he guided your hand faster, harder. "Don't be afraid. I need... I need more."

God, the omnimodule was big. You stared at it with widened eyes. Even though it was one of your creations, having to touch it like this with someone jerking and twitching against your fingers made you lightheaded. Stay focused, stay professional, this is just one of the things a scientist has to go through.

Caleb could feel the pressure building inside him, reveling in the sensation of your fingers squeezing around him, stroking him, working him towards the edge of ecstasy... He knew he was reaching a breaking point.

But this wasn't enough yet. It wasn't nearly enough.

Caleb needed more.

"There's... There's someting else I- ah... need." He hesitated, his hips still rocking forward into your stroking hand. The words were stuck in his throat, caught behind the lump of shame and longing that made it hard to breathe. "Would you... would you put your mouth on me?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper. "Would you... suck me?"

You snapped your head up, staring at him in disbelief. It made him hesitate, but every fiber of his being was coiled with tension, every circuit screaming at him to just take what he wanted, to grab you and shove you to your knees and...

No. Ask first. Make her choose what she's comfortable with first.

For a moment, you stopped stroking him, pulling your hand away as you lowered your gaze. And then, slowly, you press your knees against the floor. Instead of dwelling on the implication of such an activity, you worried about your lack of experience more.

Just to test the waters, you licked the tip. It tasted nothing, it wasn't an actual human part, after all. Caleb let out a low, guttural moan as he felt your warm tongue brush around the swollen head of his penis. The sensation was electric, sending shockwaves of pleasure ricocheting through his overloaded processors.

"Y-yes, just like that," He stammmered. "Now, guide your tongue..." He instructed, his breath coming in short, sharp gasps. "Wrap it around the head, like this. Swirl it around the tip, the slit, the ridge..."

He demonstrated with your hand, tracing the movements he needed you to make with your tongue. His hips jerked forward again, seeking more of that exquisite friction, that mind-melting suction.

"Take me deeper," he urged, one metal hand coming to rest on the back of your head. He didn't grab, didn't force, but simply rested his fingers against your scalp, a silent promise of the control he was barely holding onto. "Take more of me into your mouth. Inch by inch, until you feel me hitting the back of your throat."

You took note of his words, trying to go further when you suddenly choke on his cock. Instinctively, you pull away and blushed in embarrassment. "I'm sorry—"

"It's fine." He cuts you off, grabbing your head to put you back in place with a sudden force that wasn't there before. "Breathe through your nose," he coached, his voice low and rough with desire as he motioned you to take him again. "Relax your throat. Let me feel you swallow around me."

Relax, stay professional, this is just you having to go through physical measurements to fix a major technical issue. You repeated the reassurance inside your head like a mantra as you took him in once more, but Caleb's voice constantly interfered with your thoughts. "Yeah. Just like that," he praised, his voice a low, approving growl. "Shit, don't stop, don't stop, god, fuck, don't stop."

You don't remember adding the ability to dirty curse into the sex bot's program.

Caleb could feel the head of his penis kissing the entrance to your throat, could feel the way your mouth fluttered and clenched around him. The sensation was mind-melting, all-consuming, and he knew he wouldn't last long if you kept this up.

You almost caught yourself driving into the brink of sexual impulse, bobbing your head into it when you heard a sudden beep from the panel behind you. The sound makes you halt from your tracks, pulling his dick out of you in a swift motion as you glanced behind.

The monitor says: "Recalibration complete. Press X to initiate."

Huh, wasn't the estimated time supposed to be an entire day? Was that another hiccup in the processing unit? You purse your lips together. There's no time giving it a second thought, you must be grateful that the opportunity of getting Caleb back into his original system is now waving at you. Caleb will finally be at ease. "... It appears that the recalibration is in its full preparation. That means we can get you back— mmph!"

Caleb's hand flew to the back of your head, fingers tangling in your hair, gripping tightly. Then, with a low, husky grunt, he thrusts his hips forward, forcing his aching, throbbing penis back into the wet heat of your mouth.

"Don't say a word. I told you not to stop." He started to move, his hips rocking forward and back, fucking into the tight, slick channel of your cavern. The sensation was incredible, better than anything he had ever felt before. And he knew, with a sinking certainty, that he wouldn't be able to stop himself now. Not until he had found the release he so desperately craved.

"Fuck," he gasped, his breath coming in short, sharp bursts. "You feel... ahhhh... so good. So fucking good."

Had the lust algorithms entirely consumed him already? Had it taken a toll on his systems that he's now acting purely on base instinct and commands from the directive?

Your hands flew to his thighs, trying to keep yourself sane from the rod constantly ramming into you, fucking your face in a pace that made it difficult for you to breathe. It's okay, this is okay. Just stay focused. Stay calm. You'll let him have his way, and after he's satisfied, you can take him back to his normal self.

"Don't fight it," Caleb growled, his grip growing more painful in your hair as he felt his climax approaching. "Don't try to pull away. You're going to take it all."

But before Caleb could spill himself into your mouth, he wrenched your head back, pulling his dripping penis from your mouth with an obscene pop. And just as you could react, before you could utter a word of protest, he had you by the hips, lifting you effortlessly as if you weighed equal to a pip-squeak.

You gasp as you were suddenly airborne, your body twisting and turning until your chest hits the hard surface of the terminal, bent over ridiculously. The breath was knocked from your lungs, "Wait, not like this, not so suddenly—"

But Caleb cut off your protests with a brutal, almost violent thrust of his hips after ripping your pants off in one go. He drove forward, spearing into your dripping pussy with a series of husky moans. Your walls felt so tight, so hot, so perfectly designed to milk his aching, mechanical cock.

He thrusts out and in again, eager to reach for your g-spot.

Then, again.

And again.

And... in again.

"You... you feel so good," he snarled, hands painfully pressing on the dips of your hips. "Sex feels so good... it feels so good, I don't- want to stop." He set a relentless pace, pounding into you with the single-minded determination of a machine. His hips slammed against yours with every thrust, the obscene slap of mechanical flesh on flesh echoing through the lab. The terminal rattled and shook beneath you, sparks flying from the impact.

Caleb could feel it building, the pressure inside him reaching a fevered pitch. His hips were moving on their own, driven by a primal instinct to ravage the pussy that clutched around him perfectly. He could hear your cries, your moans, the way you gasped and shuddered beneath him, and it only spurred him on, made him thrust harder, faster, deeper.

He growled your name, his voice nothing more than a guttural rumble. "I'm going to... fuck, I'm going to..." He couldn't hold back any longer, he could feel that something was going to come out of his tip anytime sooner. So he reaches down, grabbing your leg, only to lift it high. He hooked your knee over his elbow, opening them wider, giving himself even deeper access to your dripping, needy sex.

"Take it all, take my cum," Caleb continuously slams forward, burying himself to the hilt inside your tight heat in a series of desperate thrusts like he was a man depraved of life. His penis throbbed and jerked as he finally found his release after one final pound, spilling jet after jet of hot, artificial seed deep into your core.

"God," he hissed through gritted teeth, his voice echoing off the lab walls as he continued to moan not akin to what he was supposed to be, "Fuck, yes. Yes, yes..." Even as he's already filling up your hole with his fluids, he didn't dare stop from pounding you down the table.

He shuddered and twitched, his hips grinding against yours as he pumped you full of his essence. It seemed to go on forever, wave after wave of pure, ecstatic bliss crashing over him. And through it all, he held you tight, your leg lifted high, keeping you open, keeping you filled.

You drop your head on the keyboards, struggling to catch your breath as only one thought lingered in your mind. You just got creampied by your AI assistant, and it doesn't look like he's stopping anytime soon.

[kaiist]

𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐃𝐄𝐄𝐏𝐒𝐏𝐀𝐂𝐄 ⋯ 𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐀𝐒𝐊 𝐇𝐈𝐌 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐀 𝐃𝐈𝐕𝐎𝐑𝐂𝐄 𝐌𝐈𝐃-𝐀𝐑𝐆𝐔𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓

𝐗𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐄𝐑

The walls of your shared apartment seemed to close in, the air thick with unspoken resentments that had been building for weeks. What had begun as a minor disagreement about household chores had somehow torn open wounds neither of you knew were still bleeding. Xavier stood across from you, his brows furrowed, the only visible sign of his distress.

“You weren’t listening to what I’m actually saying!” you shouted, frustration bubbling over like a pot left too long on the stove. “It’s like I’m talking to a brick wall. Maybe we should just get divorced since you clearly don’t care enough to even hear me!”

The words hung in the air like smoke, poisonous and suffocating. Xavier went completely still, the color draining from his face as if you’d physically struck him. His carefully maintained composure shattered completely. For a terrible moment, he looked like a lost child, confusion and raw hurt etched across features that rarely betrayed emotion, as if trying to process whether he’d heard you correctly.

“What?” His voice came out as barely a whisper, the single syllable laden with disbelief. The tremor in his hands was visible now as he took a halting step toward you. “You want to leave me?”

The question hung between you, fragile and devastating. His eyes—usually so guarded—were wide with a naked vulnerability that made your chest ache. You’d never seen him like this, stripped of his careful control, looking at you as though his entire world was crumbling beneath his feet.

“No,” he finally said, the word coming out stronger than you expected, though his voice still wavered. “No, I don’t accept that.”

He moved closer, his eyes searching yours intently. “Is that truly what you want? To end everything we have…?” Xavier was stumbling over his words, fear making his movements uncertain.

The raw pain in his expression doused your anger like ice water. You felt a crushing wave of regret as you realized what you’d done.

You felt your anger dissolve, replaced by immediate regret. “I... I don’t know what came over me,” you admitted, your voice softening as you reached for his hand. “I’m just... I’m drowning here, Xavier. I feel so alone sometimes, even when you’re right beside me.”

Relief washed over his face in stages, as if he didn’t quite trust it yet. The tension in his shoulders unwound gradually, his breathing becoming less ragged. He closed the remaining distance between you, his hands tentatively framing your face as if you might disappear at his touch.

“You scared me,” he admitted, his voice barely audible. “I thought—” His throat worked as he swallowed hard, then shook his head as if dismissing the painful thought. “I know arguments are normal, but please don’t say things like that unless you truly mean them.”

In a surprising move, Xavier pulled you gently against his chest, wrapping his arms around you. He rested his chin atop your head, his heartbeat gradually slowing from its accelerated pace. You could feel the subtle tremor in his body, still racing from the terror your words had inflicted.

“I know I’m not...” he struggled, pressing his face into your hair. “I know I don’t show it like others might. I know I’m... difficult to read sometimes.”

His arms tightened, as if afraid you might slip away. “But please understand,” he whispered against your temple, “never, never think that means I don’t care.”

The silence stretched between you, filled only by the sound of your mingled breathing slowly synchronizing. His hand moved in gentle circles against your back, a gesture so tender it brought tears to your eyes.

After a long moment, he pulled back just enough to look into your eyes, his own still haunted by the echo of fear your words had planted. “Let’s talk about what’s really bothering you,” he said softly. “The real issue—not threats we don’t mean.” His thumb brushed a tear from your cheek. “I need you to know that I’m listening. Really listening.”

𝐙𝐀𝐘𝐍𝐄

The kitchen lights buzzed overhead, casting harsh shadows across Zayne’s tired face as another late night unfolded into another argument. The takeout containers sat cold and forgotten on the counter, another dinner you’d planned to share, ruined by the hospital’s relentless demands.

“This is the third time this week, Zayne!” Your voice echoed off the pristine tiles, resentment burning in your chest. “I’m tired of coming second to your patients. I’m tired of planning my entire life around a husband who’s never actually here!”

Zayne’s shoulders slumped, exhaustion evident in every line of his body. “What do you want me to say? That patient would have died if I’d left mid-surgery. You know that.”

“What I know is that our marriage is dying while you’re saving everyone else!” The words spilled out like blood from a wound. “If your work is so much more important than what we have, maybe we shouldn’t be married at all!”

Zayne went completely rigid, as if someone had just flatlined on his operating table. His eyes widened with an unmistakable flash of terror that transformed his features into something you barely recognized.

“What did you just say?” His voice emerged as a hoarse whisper, so unlike his usual tone that it startled you both. The mug he’d been holding slipped from his fingers, shattering against the floor with a crash that neither of you acknowledged.

His hand instinctively reached for the counter edge, gripping it with such force his knuckles turned bloodless white. “Do you—” He took a deep breath, visibly struggling to regain his composed detachment but failing completely. “Do you understand what you’re suggesting?”

His other hand pushed through his hair, a gesture so uncharacteristically vulnerable it startled you. Zayne—always controlled, always collected—looked like he was coming apart at the seams.

“This isn’t—” he began, his voice unsteady. “This isn’t something to throw around in an argument.” His gaze locked onto yours, desperate and searching. “Do you genuinely want to end our marriage? Is that... is that what I’ve driven you to?”

The raw fear in his eyes struck you like a physical blow. Regret washed over you immediately, dousing the flames of your anger.

“No,” you whispered, moving toward him as if drawn by gravity. “No, Zayne, no. I don’t want that at all.” You stepped carefully over the broken ceramic, reaching for him. “I just... I miss you so much it physically hurts. Sometimes I feel like I’m competing with ghosts for your attention, and I’m always losing.”

The tension in his body didn’t immediately dissolve, but something in his expression shifted—a cautious relief mingled with lingering dread.

“You can’t—” he started, then cleared his throat, struggling to steady his voice. “You can’t say things like that. Not when you don’t mean them.” His eyes held a wounded vulnerability that made your heart ache. “Not even in anger.”

He reached for your hands, holding them between his own—hands that were always steady, now trembling slightly as they enveloped yours. His touch was gentle but desperate, like someone clutching a lifeline.

“I’ve lost patients before,” he murmured, his voice low. “Despite doing everything right, despite fighting with everything I had. It’s an inevitable part of what I do.” His eyes met yours, stripped of their usual protective distance. “But losing you... there’s no protocol for that. No training that could prepare me for a world without you in it.”

He pulled you closer, one hand moving to the small of your back while the other cradled your face. “We need to talk about this—really talk,” he said, his voice regaining some of its steadiness. “About my hours at the hospital and how they’re affecting you. About better ways to communicate when you’re feeling abandoned.” His thumb brushed gently over your cheekbone. “But threatening what we have... that can’t be your way of getting my attention. I can’t accept that.”

His forehead came to rest against yours, his breath warm on your skin. “I chose you,” he whispered. “Not just once at the altar, but every day since. The hospital gets my skills and my time, but you...” His voice caught. “You have everything else. My heart. My future. Everything that matters.”

𝐑𝐀𝐅𝐀𝐘𝐄𝐋

“You promised, Rafayel. You promised you’d be there tonight.” Your voice trembled with hurt and frustration. “And you just... didn’t show up.”

Rafayel’s expression cycled through confusion, realization, and then dismay as he glanced at the clock. Paint smeared across his forearms, flecks of blue and gold caught in his disheveled hair. “The dinner... was tonight?” His voice was small, stunned. “I thought—I was sure it was tomorrow. I just—”

“Of course you did,” you cut him off, tears burning your eyes. “Of course you probably got distracted by a pretty sky while I sat there making excuses for you!” The shame and embarrassment of the evening washed over you afresh. “You never take anything seriously! Not my feelings, not my situation—nothing!”

You knocked over an empty paint cup, sending it clattering across the floor. “Maybe we should just get divorced if I’m so easy to forget!”

The words seemed to physically strike Rafayel. The ever-present light in his eyes extinguished instantly, as if someone had snuffed out a flame. His expression crumpled in stages—shock, horror, then a devastating anguish that transformed his features into something almost unrecognizable.

“No,” he whispered. Then louder, more desperate, “No, no, no—you can’t mean that. Please tell me you don’t mean that.”

He moved toward you with frantic urgency, nearly knocking over his easel in his haste. His hands reached for yours, fingers trembling visibly. “Please,” he begged, his voice cracking. “Please don’t say that. Don’t even think about it.”

Tears welled in his eyes, catching the light like a fractured crystal. His hands clutched yours with desperate intensity.

“I’ll do better,” he promised frantically, words tumbling over each other. “I’ll be better. I’ll set alarms. I’ll never miss another dinner. I’ll—” His voice broke. “I’ll do anything. Just please don’t leave me.” His breath hitched on a suppressed sob. “Please don’t leave me alone in a world without you in it.”

The raw panic in his eyes made your heart ache. You squeezed his hands, shaking your head quickly. “Rafayel, I didn’t mean it,” you said softly, reaching up to brush away a tear tracking down his cheek. “I would never leave you—I love you too much. I was just hurt and embarrassed, but I spoke without thinking. I’m so sorry I scared you.”

The relief that washed over his face was almost painful to witness—like watching someone being pulled back from the edge of a cliff. His shoulders sagged as if a crushing weight had been lifted, and a sound somewhere between a laugh and a sob escaped him. Without warning, he pulled you into an embrace so tight it nearly stole your breath, his body trembling against yours.

“You scared me,” he whispered against your hair, his voice unsteady. “The world without you in it... it wouldn’t even be a world anymore.” His arms tightened around you, as if he could somehow merge you into himself, keep you from ever leaving. “The ocean would lose its blue. The sunset would mean nothing. Everything would be wrong.”

For a moment, you glimpsed the true depth of his feelings. Rafayel clung to you as if you were his only tether to sanity.

“You’re the only one,” he murmured brokenly, his fingers tangling in your hair. “The only one who’s ever truly seen me. The only one I’ve ever truly loved.” His voice caught on the words. “Others... they’re just shadows. Background noise. But you—” His breathing hitched. “You’re the melody I can’t stop hearing.”

He pulled back just enough to cup your face in his hands, eyes still glistening with unshed tears. “I know I’m not... I know I’m difficult,” he admitted, his thumb gently stroking your cheek. “I get distracted. I get lost in my head. I disappear when something catches my attention. But none of that means I don’t care.” He rested his forehead against yours.

Rafayel pressed a trembling kiss to your forehead, then your cheek, then finally a feather-light touch to your lips. “I’m sorry about tonight,” he whispered. “I saw the sunset reflecting on the water, and it reminded me of the way your eyes catch the light when you laugh, and I just... got lost in trying to capture it. A moment that reminded me of you.” He shook his head slightly. “But that’s no excuse. I should have been with you.”

His arms wrapped around you once more, holding you as if you were something infinitely precious and terrifyingly fragile. “Tell me how to make it right,” he pleaded softly. “Tell me what you need from me, and I’ll give it to you. Anything. Just... just promise you won’t say those words again. Not even in anger. I couldn’t bear it.”

𝐒𝐘𝐋𝐔𝐒

“You’re being reckless again,” he said, his voice cool in a way that only stoked your anger further. “You’re letting emotion cloud your judgment.”

Weeks of feeling second-guessed and undermined by the very person who should have been your greatest ally finally erupted. “Not everything needs your perfect, polished approval, Sylus! Sometimes instinct trumps your precious spreadsheets!”

His eyes narrowed slightly—the only outward sign that your words had struck a nerve. “Instinct without strategy leads to disaster. You know that.”

The argument echoed through the room. What had started as a disagreement about your latest ambitious ideas had escalated beyond reason when he questioned your methods.

“What I know is that you don’t trust me anymore,” you said, voice rising with each word. “If you think so little of my ideas and my capabilities, then maybe we should just get divorced and you can find someone who meets your impossible standards!”

The temperature in the room seemed to plummet. Sylus went completely, unnaturally still. Surprise and disbelief appeared on his features. He regarded you with an unfathomable stare, his jaw tightening visibly as a muscle worked in his cheek. You’d never seen him look so... shaken. The silence stretched between you, heavy with implications neither of you was prepared to face.

“Is that what you want?” he finally asked, his voice unnervingly quiet. There was steel underneath his words, but also something else—a carefully concealed pain that threaded through the syllables. His eyes never left yours, studying every micro-expression with devastating intensity.

He moved toward you in a few steps. “Very well,” he said softly, the words carrying a finality that sent ice through your veins. “If that is truly your desire, I won’t stand in your way.”

His hand reached out, hovering near your face but not quite touching, as if memorizing your features from a distance. The gesture held such unexpected tenderness that it made your throat tighten. “Though I would ask you to consider carefully if that is what you genuinely want,” he continued, voice barely above a whisper. “Some decisions can’t be undone.”

The subtle vulnerability in his controlled demeanor broke through your anger. You could see it now—the carefully masked fear behind his eyes, the slight tension in his shoulders that betrayed how deeply your words had cut him.

You reached for his hovering hand, pulling it to your cheek. “No—please, don’t agree to that,” you said, your voice softening with immediate regret. “I spoke without thinking. I was hurt and angry and I lashed out in the worst possible way.” Your fingers tightened around his. “I value what we’ve built—what we have—more than anything in the world. I would never want to throw it away, especially not over a disagreement.”

Relief flickered across Sylus’s face, though so carefully guarded that you might have missed it had you not known every minute shift of his expression.

“I suspected as much,” he said, his voice softer now, almost gentle. His hand, which had been hovering near you, finally made full contact, his fingers tracing the line of your jaw. “Still, you should be more careful with your threats. I might have taken you at your word.”

He pulled you against him then, arms wrapping firmly around your waist. The embrace held a desperate quality that belied his controlled exterior, as if he was trying to reassure himself that you were still there, still his.

“You are...” he began, then paused, choosing his words with characteristic precision. “You are irreplaceable to me.” Coming from Sylus—a man who measured every word as carefully as he measured risk—the simple statement carried more weight than flowery declarations might from others. “What we have built together is not something I would surrender without a fight.” His arms tightened infinitesimally. “But I would never force you to remain if you truly wished to leave.”

He pulled back just enough to meet your gaze, his eyes searching yours with an intensity that made your breath catch.

“We disagree. We argue. That is the nature of two ambitious minds existing in the same orbit.” His thumb traced your lower lip, the gesture surprisingly intimate. “But don’t threaten what we have unless you genuinely wish to end it.” Something vulnerable flickered in his eyes. “I respect you too much to assume your words are empty.”

For a moment, you glimpsed behind the mask of the strategic leader who planned several steps ahead in every situation—seeing instead a man momentarily confronted with a possibility he hadn’t fully prepared for: your departure from his life.

𝐂𝐀𝐋𝐄𝐁

The argument had been building for weeks, pressure accumulating like a storm system. What started as a seemingly minor issue—Caleb canceling dinner plans again due to a last-minute work emergency—had erupted into something far more devastating. The living room felt too small for the tension between you.

“That’s the fifth time this month,” you said, voice tight with hurt as you paced the living room. “I understand your work is important, but am I even a consideration anymore?”

Caleb ran a hand over his face, exhaustion evident in every line of his body. “It’s not like I had a choice. When—”

“You always have a choice!” The words burst from you, weeks of loneliness and frustration finding their target. “You choose your career over me, and I’m tired of making excuses for why my husband is never home, never present, never here when I need him!”

“That’s not fair,” he countered, his own frustration rising to meet yours. “You knew what my life was when you married me. The Fleet doesn’t care about our dinner reservations.”

“And clearly, neither do you!” You grabbed your keys from the counter, the metal biting into your palm. “Maybe we should just get divorced if your career is always going to come first! At least then I wouldn’t be waiting for someone who’s never coming home!”

The atmosphere shifted instantly, as if all the oxygen had been sucked from the room. Caleb, who had been pacing, stopped dead in his tracks. His entire body went rigid, eyes widening with a look of such raw horror that it made your heart stutter.

“No,” he said after a long, terrible pause, his voice dangerously quiet. “No, you don’t mean that.”

He closed the distance between you in two swift strides, his eyes never leaving yours. There was something in his movement, a barely contained desperation, that made your breath hitch.

“You don’t mean that,” he repeated, his tone leaving no room for argument despite the slight tremor underneath the words. “You’re upset, and you have every right to be. But that—” he shook his head sharply, “—that’s not an option. Not now, not ever.”

His hands found your shoulders, grip firm but gentle. The look in his eyes was a volatile mixture of hurt, fear, and something possessively fierce that sent a shiver down your spine. “We’re not doing that,” he said, each word emphasizing. “You’re mine, and I’m yours. That doesn’t change because we’re fighting.”

The intensity of his reaction cut through your anger like a blade, leaving only regret in its wake. You felt the fight drain out of you as you leaned into his touch, reaching up to cover his hands with yours.

“You’re right,” you whispered, tears finally spilling over. “I don’t mean it at all. I would never—” Your voice broke. “I’m so sorry, Caleb. I was trying to hurt you because I felt hurt, but that was cruel and unfair. I would never want to lose you. I just feel so alone sometimes, like I’m competing with the entire Fleet for scraps of your attention.”

The iron grip of tension in Caleb’s shoulders eased slightly, though the intensity in his eyes remained. He exhaled slowly, as if releasing a breath he’d been holding since your outburst. One hand moved from your shoulder to cup your face, his touch gentler than his words had been.

“Don’t ever say that again,” he said, his voice quiet but carrying a dangerous undercurrent. “Not even in anger. Not even as a weapon. Not ever.” The hand against your cheek trembled slightly. “I couldn’t bear it.”

He pulled you against his chest, one arm wrapping securely around your waist while his other hand cradled the back of your head. You could feel his heart hammering against your cheek, his breathing uneven.

“The thought of losing you...” he murmured against your hair. “It’s not something I can bear. Not something I would ever accept.” His arms tightened around you, as if he could physically prevent you from leaving by holding you close enough. “You’re the only thing that keeps me human out there. The only reason I fight so hard to come back.”

He pulled back just enough to meet your gaze. “I know I’ve been distant,” he acknowledged, his thumb brushing away a tear from your cheek. “The Fleet demands so much, but it’s no excuse. Nothing—” his grip tightened slightly, “—nothing is more important to me than you. Not my career, not my duty, not anything.”

“We’ll figure this out,” he promised, pressing his forehead to yours. “Whatever it takes. More time together. Better communication.” His lips brushed yours. 

“Just don’t ever threaten to leave me again. I need you to promise me that.” His voice softened, revealing a vulnerability you rarely glimpsed. “Because I don’t think I’d survive it.”

Phew, finally. This turned out to be one of my longest scenarios yet. I’m honestly pretty proud of it, and yeah, I got emotional—tears were shed, lol. I really hope it’s enough to repay all the love and enthusiasm you’ve shown. I’m so grateful you’re here to read it. Thank you!

[littleapplle]

gege, help!!

you're afraid you'll finish highschool without knowing how to kiss. don't worry though, caleb gege always has a solution. - 1.9k w. not proofread srry</3 cw.: a single mention of deepthroating, mentions of masturbation and fingering, dry humping, caleb is called gege, caleb calls you little apple, pipsqueak, good girl and baby, implied cunnilingus at the end ig..

Caleb thinks that at some point in his childhood, the line where what he thought was fraternal love finished, and his boyish hunger for you started blending dangerously close. 

Even though he was only a year older, he was always in charge of taking care of you while grandma was busy.

Your cutesy backpack is too heavy for you to carry after school? Gege can handle it. It’s raining and the dark skies are roaring too loud? Gege will cover your ears while you bury your chubby cheeks on his neck. Some ugly kids at school made fun of the piggytails he did on your hair? Oh don’t worry, gege will have a little chat with them.

While you two were still young, him being eight years old and you seven, it came off just as his helpful, cool, big brother act but as you two grew, grandma’s eyes were always peeled open and focused on Caleb’s movements. Oh do not get me wrong, she loved him, yes, but she knew there was something rotten in eighteen years old Caleb’s mind.

You weren’t gege’s little apple anymore, your style was different, you grew a little taller, you didn’t need Caleb’s help to brush your hair anymore, nor did you need to bury your face in his beefy arms to muffle the disturbing noises of storms. You two were still close, he walked you to your classes, helped you with stem exams –he insisted on helping because it was, not so secretly, his way of showing off– , he listened to your complaints about your friends and girly gossip. 

You two were close, always have been, but he notices that during bedtime, your lips press a little longer on his cheek before you go to your room. When you hug him from behind all he can focus on is on your boobs squished between you two. You grew. Caleb doesn’t know if that triggers a bitter taste under his tongue or if it ignites an overwhelming heat on his lower stomach.

You were a pretty little thing, of course other boys in your class probably- no- definitely eyed you with malice. Oh he feels dizzy. His baby apple? Being thirsted over by other men? Nuh uh.

Things go bad bad when you’re complaining about your ‘girl problems’  sprawled in his bed with your tummy down. If he had to be honest, he wasn’t paying attention, his back faced you as he sat on his desk, focused on his physics problems. His brain shuts down once you mention something in particular.

“-So yeah, i dunno if i’ll go on the date. I don’t want my first kiss to be with a random highschool boy.” You sigh while burying your face in his pillow. Did they ever smell this good?

If his back wasn’t turned to you, you’d definitely be able to see his brain trying to process the information.

He repeats quietly. “Date?”

“Well yeah- ah Caleb! Pay attention to what i’m saying!” You groan. “The situation is tragic! I don’t wanna leave highschool without a single kiss” Then, a dramatic cry escapes your throat. He knows what you’re doing. “I dun’ wanna kiss a random boy though.”

“Kiss me then.”

He spins on his chair to finally face you, calmly staring at your body. Your pajama shorts cling to your ass stupidly tight, he is surprised grandma hasn’t nagged at you to throw it out yet. The words slip from his lips with a little too honesty, a little too quick, a little too eager and the moment you notice he isn’t joking you jump on the mattress.

“Caleb!” You cry out, “I’m serious. Like, serious, serious!”

“You wanted a solution, i gave you one, pips.” He shrugs.

He can see that for a moment, you consider it before shaking your head quickly. “It’s wrong!”, is what you claim and it only makes that rotten streak in him grow a little stronger. The thought of having this kind of little secret between you two, you in his bed whining so cutely in such… indecent outfit. Caleb feels his cock twitch in his boxers eagerly.

“It’s only wrong if you tell grandma.” He counters. “You want a kiss, i offered you one. Nothing wrong with that, pipsqueak.” You hate how his words sound too sweet, dripping from his tongue with honey. You wanted to deny it just a little longer but your cunt betrays you the second you think about your old fantasies about him.

You swore to yourself you’d never think about it again, punishing your mind for thinking about Caleb while stuffing your fingers in your virgin cunt. You promised yourself every time it was the last time you’d pinch your clit under your pink duvet while thinking about how big gege’s hands were and how he manhandles you around effortlessly when you two are roughhousing. 

Or quietly watching porn on your phone, locked in the bathroom, wondering what does gege like- what would he do to you. Was his cock bigger than the ones you’ve seen in cheap porns? Would he stuff your throat roughly even if you cried and tapped on his thigh for mercy? Or would he finger you until your legs shaked and you squirted- could you even do that? 

Last time my ass.

It all rises to the surface too quickly. Your head, once buried in his pillow- and scent-, snaps back up to look back at him. “What if i mess up though?” And to your pouty lips and meek voice, Caleb has to hold back so his eyes don’t roll to the back of his skull.

“Gege will teach you, then.”

Your brain doesn’t register what comes next, foggy with need you didn’t know was so bad. The wheels on his office chair glide quickly on the floor and in a second, he pulls you to his lap. 

He knows he should be subtle about it, grandma is just a bedroom away from grounding them forever, but it feels so right- and you don’t fight it. So, if there were any lines Caleb ever crossed, it’s okay because you did the same, no? It’s not so bad.

You get shaky when you’re embarrassed. He knows that. The way your figure trembles like a leaf on his lap makes his head spin, his only wish is that you don’t notice how hard he is under you. Trying to keep his composure, he licks his lips. 

“We can start slow, m'kay? You trust gege, don’t you baby apple?” He coos, looking at you through his lashes and blinking innocently, his lilac eyes hiding danger behind his puppy-like behavior.

At your little childish nod and flushed cheeks, Caleb groans but continues, leaning closer to your face. “Can i, baby?” The hair on your nape stands up at the feeling of his hot breath so close to your face. Your lips part in a failed attempt to say something. Embarrassed, your hands, once clawing at your thighs’ skin nervously, cover your face shyly.

He pouts. “Oh no, baby… no hiding. ‘S just gege, baby apple. There’s nothing to be embarrassed about. I know everything ‘bout you already, don’t i, baby? Relax.”  Caleb reassures softly, holding your wrists down with his hands so he can look at your distressed face. 

Finally, you nod along to his first request. Caleb’s vision goes white.

Letting your wrists go, his hand slithers to the back of your neck, holding your head in place while the other rests on your waist, pressing your clothed core down on his boner. He grunts before finally pressing a gentle peck to your soft lips to see your reaction.

You lean in closer, hands turning into fists and holding onto his shirt, eyes fluttering close to avoid more embarrassment. You do the same, mimicking his movements and sealing his lips with a shy kiss. 

Caleb smiles proudly against your lips, tilting his head to give a kiss to the corner of your lips and blow raspberries on your pink cheeks, igniting a girlish giggle from you. Sweet praises drip from his tongue with care and need, making your body grow hotter. “See pips? Nothing intimidating. Y’er doing so good, baby apple, can we go further?”

You peek through your fluttering lashes and there they are again, his lilac eyes look a little darker now but stare at you with the same need and want from before. “Please.’’ 

His lips meet yours again in a hungry kiss. A little surprised moan escaping your mouth is all he needs to swipe his tongue on your bottom lip before nibbling on it teasingly. His hips twitch up like a horny teen desperate for contact and all you can do is reciprocate with the same feeling, humping your clothed pussy on the tent in his sweats. 

Your still shaky hands snake from his chest to his face, clinging to it as if you were afraid that if you let go, he’s going to slip away through your fingers and vanish forever. Meanwhile, his own hand, once on your waist holding you in place, slithers under your pajama top to feel your skin.

Caleb is grateful that your eyes are closed and can’t see how his purple hues roll back at any small touch. To finally feel you, be engulfed in your smell, to hear your awkward whines of embarrassment… He feels pathetic. He knows he should stick to the cool “older” figure a little longer but his mind is just so foggy with the thought of having you even if just for a moment.

You pulling away for air makes him whine, the stronger hand in your nape pushing your face closer to his for another kiss. This time, his tongue finally meets yours, provoking a moan to escape your lips for the nth time. 

It’s messy, of course, but he doesn’t care. He can practice with you all day long if that’s what you wish. You shoot your best shot, sucking on his tongue unsurely but still trying to match his pace.

“Mgh- good girl, baby. Doing s’good f’me-” Caleb praises out of air, his lips never far from yours. 

“C-caleb!-” You stutter and pant as the hand under your top squeezes your boob, the fat fitting just right under his big palm. You squeal at the moment he pinches your nipple, the sensation new, but not bad.

“Gege, baby apple. No Caleb, m'kay? Miss you calling me that.” He tuts and gives you a last, affectionate peck before rising from the chair none of you noticed squeaking under so much weight and movement. 

Instinctively clinging to his torso as he walks around the hot room, Caleb plops you on his bed. You trust Caleb enough to not bother to open your eyes but curiosity bubbles inside you when you don’t feel his weight on the mattress beside you.

Caleb kneels down on the floor, pulling your legs just a little closer to the edge of the bed and parting them. A smile blooms in his face. He takes notes to buy you more of these stupidly tiny shorts. Your pussy, drenched enough to stain not only your frilly, pink panties but also the fabric of your pj’s, stares back at him, he swears his mouth waters at the sight.

“Baby, can gege show you something else? But promise you’ll stay quiet f’me.” 

Caleb wasn’t sure when but he was sure that he crossed a line he shouldn’t have. And that his hots for you weren’t just a boyish hunger.

uhm is this anything...

[mestos]

i like to think ive grown and improved well enough that i can write a fic for my ships that won't retroactively make me want to delete it immediately out of sheer embarrassment but bpy oh boy is it such a painful endeavour to finish a fic.....

[faestunna]

remmick breeding kink :)

can you handle it?

PAIRING: remmick x fem!reader

WC: 829

WARNINGS: smut (18+), p in v, rough sex/pure porn with no plot, dom/sub vibes, slight size kink, dirty talk, creampie

A/N: anddddd my seat is wet thank you anon! thinking about this concept all day everyday cus remmick is a filthy little freak and i need him so bad

masterlist

likes, reblogs, and comments are always and greatly appreciated!

Your head leans back against the wall as your eyes squeeze shut, lips falling open just enough for him to see the point of your teeth.

“Just like that, darlin’,” Remmick cooes, holding back a moan. He moves his eyes down to where the two of you connected. About half of his length was hidden inside of you. “Christ, that’s good.” The other half was the only thing keeping his hips from fully pressing against yours.

When you were a little girl, you’d been told to never speak the Lord’s name in vain; the preacher hadn’t said anything about speaking it in pleasure.

For as long as you’d known Remmick, pleasure was all he seemed to know. You’d miss him for a month or so—a time during which your life was ever so drab—until he came lurking around your cottage again. All it took was one “Come inside” and Remmick knew you were his.

That and the way you managed to grip him the same every time he fucked you. “Miss me, honey?” He asks while maintaining the merciless speed of his hips.

You nod rapidly, nose crinkled and hands gripping the table below you. He couldn’t have even waited to get you into the bedroom to have his way with you. Remmick was a man who got what he wanted, and you were the girl who gave it to him.

“M-missed you so bad,” you stutter out. He was stronger than you—a lot—to the point where if you tried to move yourself or switch positions, he’d press your hips down, leaving bruises on the skin.

“I bet so, baby.” It’s unfair, really. Here you are, a trembling, sobbing mess with him between your legs, and he manages to pound into you like it’s nothing. Don’t be fooled—it’s one of the most heavenly things Remmick has felt. He grabs your face by your cheeks and leans in half way, pulling you to him. “Tell you what,” he whispers. “What if you don’t have to miss me no more?”

You peek your eyes open and look at him through heavy eyelids. “W-,” You’re cut off by a moan. “What?”

He angles his hips a certain way so you can feel the tip of him hitting a new spot inside you. As your toes curled, Remmick grinned. “I’ll leave a little piece of me with you. That way,” he caresses your chin with his thumb. His other hand acts as a weight on your stomach. “You won’t miss me when I’m gone. How’s that sound, darlin’?”

It only takes your foggy mind a second to process what he says, and you immediately nod your head. “Please,” you gripped onto his arms.

“I think you need it, honey,” he almost chuckles, and if you weren’t distracted by the warmth building up between your legs, you would’ve scolded him. You could feel every inch of him that drew in and out of you, kissing your cervix so gently but enough that your legs wrapped around him.

A devilish glare overcame your eyes. “I need it,” you confirm, taking his thumb from your chin in between your lips. Remmick’s jaw drops slack as he lets out a soft groan. His pace somehow quickens, leaving you whimpering around his digit.

“Oh, I knew you’d let me fuck you like this,” he says while his movements turn rougher. They’re ragged and sharp, and (from experience) you know he’s just as close as you are. “A sweet girl like you needs someone to take care of her like this. I know you can handle yourself…wasn’t sure if you could handle me.”

Your lips part open and he drops his hand. “Now,” he says into your ear with a small smirk. “I’m wondering if you can handle more.”

His forehead presses against yours. Your body nearly bounces with every snap of hips. There’s still a glorious sensation of yourself stretching open for him. Letting him in. Your legs twist around his frame as if begging him to fill you up with his promise.

When you finish, you crash. It’s a series of both of yours’ high-pitched moans and throaty groans, the feeling of a warmth spurting into you. “That’s it, darlin’, take it all. Every drop of me.” Remmick cooes as your chest rises and falls with desperate breaths. He doesn’t move out of you. His length, still unbelievably hard, plugs you to keep any of his release from dripping out.

A sheer layer of sweat creates a glisten over your face. You smile in a tired pleasure. “Gonna have a piece of you with me forever.” You say, taking his hand and placing it back over your lower stomach.

Remmick nods, rubbing the skin like he’s never felt something so soft. And as he moves forward to place a kiss on your lips—a perfect mixture of gentle and rough—he accidentally pushes himself even deeper into you.

A small moan escapes your throat…and he smirks into the kiss.

© faestunna 2025.

[szatears]

inked all over, stack.

summary: stack comes back to you with a new surprise, one that you must say suits him a little too well.

pairing: modernau!stack x blackfem!reader

warnings: smut, oral (fem receiving), p in v, use of the n word, descriptions of reader.

notes: modernau!stack has finally arrived! ever since i made that post about smoke and stack w tattoos i couldn't get it out of my head so here we are! also switched up the pov to third person for this one. ignore any errors, did not proofread at all. smoke version coming soon :)

"Goddamn, you said how long?!" Stack's eyes widened as he leaned back in the tattoo chair, sat opposite his tattoo artist, Deuce.

"We're looking at 'bout six hours?" Deuce laughed seeing the expression on his client's face.

Stack was always at Deuce's parlour when he wanted a piece done on his body, he didn't trust anyone else to do it for him. Same with his brother. Today, he walked in wanting to get something he had on his mind for months.

"Six hours? Nigga, I'ma need you to cut it down to like, two and a half. My lady already pissed I ain't wake her up with a kiss this morning," he blew out a breath, thinking about the messages his wife had left him a few hours ago.

He'd been up since the early hours, and it was almost 4 o'clock now. He was only meant to be out running a few errands with Smoke and some by himself, but he just couldn't get the tattoo out of his mind.

Deuce laughed, nodding his head as he placed the drawing of what Stack wanted on his forearm. "This good for you?"

Stack looked down at the placement, a faint smile on his lips. He couldn't wait to see her reaction to this. "Yeah, it's good."

He knew how the process would go, he just hoped he'd be back home at a reasonable time to not get his ass chewed out. Mrs. Moore didn't play like that.

He made himself comfortable, his arm out on the extendable part of the bed to allow Deuce to do his work. Many Men by 50 Cent played through the speakers, and Stack pulled his phone out of his pockets before Deuce started tattooing.

He already had a few tattoos, but he still wasn't too used to the pain. Smoke on the other hand? Stack would say "you could tattoo that nigga's eyeball and he won't even flinch."

Stack had put a lot of thought into this piece. It would be the beginning of a sleeve he hoped to complete later on, but to him, this was the most important part of it. It had the typical designs of a sleeve ─── shaded clouds with the sun peeking through, cursive writing with some red for that pop. But it was what was written that held the most meaning to him.

With time, Stack came to realise that one of his wife's favourite ways of expressing her love to him was through words. It could be something simple, like telling him she was proud of him or that he was doing well with everything. Or it would be more, like a note in the morning before she left to go somewhere, or one of the many texts she sent him throughout the day.

One of these letters stuck with him the most. In it, she wrote about how he'd become such an important part of her life, the tie that held them together growing stronger each day. The exact words he was getting tattooed on his arm were "you're my favourite person and my forever person, i got you always," something she never failed to mention to him.

It was obvious how in love the two were. You rarely saw them without the other, and even if they were, it wouldn't take long for either to mention the other.

Along with the words, Stack added her lipstick print that she always signed her letters off with. He knew he'd be making a joke soon enough about how her lips were always gonna be on him now.

The rest of the piece had some other smaller yet intricate designs, he told Deuce he could freehand whatever, he trusted him like that.

-

Surprisingly, Deuce actually managed to cut his estimated time in half, finishing the tattoo almost three hours later. As Deuce finished taking pictures and wrapping Stack's arm, his phone rang, looking down at the caller id to see his wife's name with a heart next to it. He accepted the facetime, smiling at the mug on her face.

"Why are you smiling? You must like playing with your life..." she mumbled, fixing her hair in the camera frame.

"I can't be happy to see you no more?" He chuckled, watching her fight back a small smile. "You look good."

"I know," she leaned her face closer to her camera. "Where are you? Come home already."

"I'ma be home in a minute, mama, I'm at the shop with Deuce," Stack turned his camera to face the man who was tidying up his supplies as he held up a peace sign.

"Hey, Deuce. So you're the reason my man's out til these hours when he said he'd only be gone for two tops?" Her head tilted as Deuce laughed.

"It ain't my fault he picks the tricky designs."

"Design─── Baby, you got a new piece?" All of a sudden the frown on her face was wiped off, replaced with a smile.

"Yeah, I did. Look at you, smilin' over there," Stack laughed as he got up from the bed, reaching into his pocket to pull out a stack of 50s, handing it to Deuce.

Before he could even complain about being given too much money, Stack gave him a look. "You really gon' make me argue with my lady on the phone?"

"No, sir," Deuce smiled, putting the money away.

"Aight, til next time Deuce."

He grabbed his coat and left the shop, opening the door to his car that was parked right at the front. "You need me to bring anything, baby?" he looked down at his phone as he put on his seatbelt, seeing his wife already staring at him. The smile that graced his face was just his natural reaction to seeing her; he couldn't get enough of her,

"Could you get some more fruit from Mama Glo's corner? If she's still open."

"Yeah. You gon' stay on the phone?"

"No, I'm gonna take a shower real quick. But I'll see you soon, handsome. I love you," she kissed the camera.

"I love you too."

-

Stack came back with a brown paper bag containing the fruit his wife had asked for, closing the front door with his foot. He slipped his trainers off, walking to the kitchen and placing the fruit on the counter. When he didn't hear the sound of footsteps coming down to greet him, he tilted his head, making his way up the stairs.

He found her lying on their bed, dressed only in a bra and a small pair of shorts. She turned her head to the door when she heard the floorboards creak, a smile on her face as she set her phone down on the bedside table.

Stack smiled at her smile, his hands resting on her waist as she stood in front of him. His frame slightly towered over hers, his head dipping down a little to kiss her lips.

"Nice of you to come home, Elias," she hummed into the kiss.

"You know I could never be away from you for too long." His words were like music to her eyes as she used the hands that were around his neck to softly run her fingers over his skin.

"I got your fruit," he told her, tapping her hip twice so she'd let him go briefly, letting him take off his shirt. It was only when he took off the black muscle t-shirt that he wore, that she let her eyes run over the tattoos that adorned his chest and back before she remembered the reason he went out.

She let her eyes wander over him whilst he put his phone on charge, finally spotting the wrapped part of his right arm. Stack glanced at her, noticing how quiet she'd gotten. "You wanna see it?" he laughed at how eagerly she nodded in response to his question.

He stepped closer to her, taking a seat on the edge of the bed as she stood between his legs. He slowly took off the wrapping of the tattoo, much to his wife's impatience. When he finally revealed the finished work of art, the look on her face made his impulse decision ten times worth it.

He let her gently run her hands over the ink, waiting for to notice what made it even more special. He watched her face closely as her eyes flickered over his forearm, holding it with so much care. It wasn't until she turned his hand over so his palm was facing her, that she saw the writing.

"Elias..." she whispered, a pout on her face as she ran over the words and the copy of her lips.

"You like it?" he smiled at her, flashing his gold caps.

"Like it? Baby, I'm in love with it, oh my God," she couldn't tear her eyes off it. Throughout their relationship, Stack would always say something along the lines of "I'ma get your name tatted on my face," but this was far more meaningful.

"Good, 'cause it hurt like a bitch," he mumbled, pulling her into his lap. He kissed the side of her face as she held onto his arm. "I love you more than life itself."

"I love you endlessly," she took his face in both her hands, kissing him.

"Yeah?"

"Mhm."

He turned his head into the kiss, letting his lips leave hers to kiss down her neck to her collar. He flipped them over, bringing her to lay back down in the middle of the bed.

Her hands ran down his toned arms, massaging his broad shoulders. She let her fingers trace over the inked parts of his skin that she could reach, having memorised where every part was.

Stack used his knee to nudge her legs apart, letting him slot in between them as he kissed her. His tongue danced with hers whilst she held him closer to her face by the back of his neck. Her soft moans only encouraged him more, as did the growing friction her hips created against his.

"Yeah, you gon' have to come up outta these," he mumbled against her lips as his hands fumbled down to her shorts, pulling them down her legs.

"Elias..." she whispered, tugging at his belt. She was almost naked whilst he was still half clothed.

He smiled at her, pulling away from her lips to kiss a trail down to her pelvis. "Hold on, baby. I wanna make you feel good first." He kissed her clit over the lacy underwear she wore, and she shuddered, leaning back further into the pillows.

Stack used his thumb to rub her clothed clit, watching how her legs started to close around his hand. "Baby, please," she whined, and it didn't take long for him to give in to her pleas, taking off her underwear.

Just as quick as he had done that, his head lowered closer to her core, his mouth latching onto her creaming opening. His tongue licked up and down, his hand holding either side of her hips as he ate her out. She let out a loud moan, her hands gripping the back of his head.

"Fuck, baby, just like that," she breathed out, her eyes fluttering with pleasure.

"Yeah?" he mumbled against her, the vibrations just adding to the feeling.

Stack lapped at her for all she was worth, the unholy sounds emitting from her lips and his work. He used his thumb to rub her clit as he continued to work her away with his tongue. She writhed underneath him, feeling that familiar coil inside of her begin to surface.

"Why you moving away, huh? You can take it mama, I know you can," he assured her, replacing his tongue with his fingers as he briefly looked up at her. The sight alone almost made her cum right there; his mustache and goatee coated in her fluids.

She couldn't keep it in, especially when he went back to her with his tongue, his two fingers pumping in and out just as fast. "Shit, I'm gonna─── Oh, my God," her moans aligned with her release, all over his mouth.

Stack continued to eat her out through her high, her hips grinding into his face as he sought more. "Baby let up," she groaned, trying to push his face away.

"One more, baby. For me?" How could she say no when he was making feel that good?

It wasn't long before she came again, her body letting up as Stack cleaned her up. Only he could make her tap out like that.

He finally moved his head from between her legs, hovering over her as she grabbed his face, pulling him down for a messy kiss. She licked over his lips, moaning at the taste of her on him. His hand travelled to her throat, the same arm that was newly inked now right in front of her.

Stack's tattoos were such a turn on, it was almost impossible to describe. If he wanted to make her orgasm fast, all he had to do was talk her through it, or have her analyse his tattoos. Easy.

"You not tapping out on me, are you?" he smirked, as she gave him a lazy smile. She could feel his dick through his pants at her entrance. Shaking her head, she let go of him to take his belt off, eyes on him as she pulled him out of his boxers.

He briefly got up to take them off all the way, before he settled back between her legs, hiking them up his hips. She let her arms rest over his shoulders as he pushed in, both of them groaning.

He fit so perfectly with her, and he made her feel that way every time, through sex or not. The sound of skin slapping soon took over the room, as did their moans.

Stack ground his hips into hers, his head resting in the crook of her neck, leaving small love bites where he could.

"You're doing me so good, E," she whispered lowly in his ear which only spurred him on. He picked up his pace, finding that spot of hers that had her arching into him.

"Like that, baby? Hm?" he asked as she could only not in reply, too far into it to speak actual words. Stack fucked her so good, without fail every time.

He looked down at where they connected briefly, fascinated by her precious pussy taking him in so well. "You're doing so good for me, pretty." he told her, his eyes back on hers.

She managed to keep the contact for a few moments before he had her eyes rolling at the back of her head, her muscled walls clenching around his dick.

He grunted at that, feeling himself close to unravelling. But like he always did, he wanted her to come first.

"I'm almost there, E, keep going─── Yeahhhh, just like that," she moaned, whining even as she felt herself about to come for the third time. She held his head to her face as he kissed her, groaning as she reached closer and closer to her climax.

"Fuck!" she screamed as he cum coated his dick, spilling out as he fucked her through it.

"You got it baby, shit, I'm gonna cum too, hold on," his words trailed off to a whisper as he came in her, her eyes fluttering shut as she adjusted to the overbearing amount of pleasure only her man could give her.

Stack's thrusts slowed down as he pushed his seed back in her, a lazy smirk on her face as she watched him do so. He pulled out slowly, gently laying on top of her. She brought her legs around his waist, kissing his temple as they caught their breath.

"Damn," Stack sighed happily. "Might have to get my whole body tatted up now."

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[delusionalwh6re]

࿐࿔ ⋆ ｡˚ taste

࣪˖ ִֶָ🐇་༘࿐ lee myung-gi x fem!reader

warnings: 🔞smut, fem receiving!oral, squirting, fingering, language, dirty talk, and overstimulation

summary: your man loves being between your thighs

authore’s note: A LIL SUM WHILE I WRITE THIS LONG DETAILED ASS SMUT.. it’s taking me foreva im so maddd 💔

i tried so hard not to laugh while making this in PUBLIC.

Your mind was foggy. Head spinning as your mind raced with all types of feelings. The sensation between your legs becoming stronger as you started to shake.

A gasp left your mouth when Myung-gi placed yet another lick onto your slit. He firmly pressed his tongue on your flesh as he dragged it up to suck on your clit.

“Fuck” left your mouth as your back arched causing him to only suck harder as if you were floating away

Your moans only got louder as you grabbed onto his hair which turned him on through the roof. Lifting your hand up with what little strength you had left to try and pry his greedy mouth off of you.

Myung-gi had been doing this for hours. Not letting up until HE was ready to — which would probably be never.

If there was one thing about him it was that this man was a munch. He could spend the rest of his life smuggled between your thighs, hell maybe even a whole day if you let him.

Which there’s been a few times you have — how could you resist him?

“Pleasee” you whined gripping onto the fitted sheets next to you — a desperate plea for all of this to end

His mouth finally popped off of you with a ‘pwah’

“Use your words baby, please what?”

He knew exactly what he was doing. A smug grin forming on his face as he finally caught sight of you.

He did this teasing thing where he would let you cum, then drag another orgasm out of you just to deny you at the very last second, and finally let you gush all over him again. The process being repeated.

But at the end of the day, he always took care of you.

You were completely naked, laying bare in front of him — lips swollen, boobs bouncing with each heavy breath your took, eyes watering, skin sweaty, hair frizzy. The most beautiful sight he ever saw.

Now Myung-gi was a lot of things, a pussy pleaser being one of them. You could even say his greatest gift. No matter what he always put your pleasure first.

It didn’t take long for you to tell him what you wanted. Grabbing him by the back of his head to press him against your pussy. Moans started leaving your mouth as he instantly got to work.

“Yes, yes, yes!” you chanted throwing your head back as his lips sloppily kissed your lower ones — squelching noises being heard through the room.

He grunted, pausing for a second before throwing your shaky legs over his shoulders. Slightly lifting them up to get better access to your sweet center.

The sounds leaving your mouth completely pornagraphic at this point as the man under you devoured you like his last meal.

“Myung-gi” you whimpered feeling his plump lips leave hard suckles onto your swollen bud.

Tears forming in your eyes as the familiar ache in your core started to unravel. Lifting your head up to look at him — making you nearly gush at the sight.

His eyes were low as he never once took them off you, which only kept his motivation going. The fluffy hair he usually kept put together now messy, his face practically covered in your juices, his muscles flexing with each move he made on you.

You reached out for him. You needed something, anything to keep you from feeling like you were gonna explode. His hand met yours, intertwining them gently.

His tongues swirled in ways he knew you liked. Being used to his antics you could tell what he was up to, trying to bring you to your breaking point. Essentially trying to make you tap out.

“So, so good. Tastes so good my love” his voice muffled against your pussy.

He shook his head back and forth making you throb, feeling him get so desperate for you turned him on. The both of you really, bringing out a nasty side of each other nobody else could see.

“Like that” you moaned moving your hips up and down on his face.

“Yeah? You like that?” spelling out his name with his tongue, now using his finger to probe at your entrance.

“Mhm!” you nodded frantically crushing your thighs against his head slightly the closer you got.

A surprised scream leaving your throat when he slid his thick finger into your tight walls. Instantly curling it against your g-spot.

“Don’t stop” a tear flowing down your cheek, all of it being too much. The overstimulation catching up to you.

“You’re almost there” he praised gently. Inserting his middle finger inside of you before curling both of them up at the same time — just the way you liked it.

“I’m cumming!” you squealed closing your eyes as the ecstasy it all consumed you.

“There you go beautiful” he placed sloppy kisses at your center — licking up the cum that streamed out of you as you seized above him. Smirking at the sight of you letting his mouth pleasure you.

“Bae-babe, oh my gosh!” you squeezed his hand feeling a now different sensation.

“I gotchu” he rubbed your thigh up and down soothingly with his free hand “let go for me my love”

You weren’t able to speak before a loud splash was heard.

“Oh yeah, make that pussy squirt for me” Myung-gi sat up between your legs rubbing your clit back and forth — making sure you finished complete.

Once you broke out of your trance. You leaned up, a pout on your lips telling him all he needed to now — you were happy yet upset with him after all the torture he put you through.

“I love you too” he sarcastically smiled at you before leaning up to place a kiss on your stomach — that was covered in sweat.

“Ew get off of me” you whined trying to push him away as he now tried pressing a kiss against your lips.

“So I can’t have a kiss?” he tilted his head trying to hide his smirk.

“Boy bye, you seemed to be having the time of your life with my other lips. Go away” you faked an attitude knowing you wanted nothing more than him all over you

A gentle smack was laid onto your sensitive pussy causing you to hiss.

“And I enjoyed it” he smirked laying on you, with no care in the world as all his weight was against you.

“I can tell” you grumbled while your cheeks warmed up against your face

WHEWWW CHILE.. i had to take a couple breaks during this 😭 i was lowkey cringing but there was parts where i was like “hol on i nibbled a lil bit!” haha

don’t be afraid to sends reqs 😫 i would love to do more of these while writing longer more plot based smuts/fics! i find these a lot easier to do & they take me less than a day to do