#I have a beauty mark but couldn't find it lol

[zappedbyzabka]

Thank youuu to @landslided @newlacesleeves @miyagi-hokarate and @born2ruuun for tagging me. Mwah!

Tag game: do this picrew and show the last song you listened to!

I was trying to get energized. Sorta worked.

(idk how to make the link that small, please forgive me akksksksksks)

I tag anyone who wants to do it and @atlas-affogato @yallwildinrn @gaykaratesoap @bollface @morewyckedthanyou @abusivelittlebunny

[ndostairlyrium]

oh so I wasn't having a wtf moment, cullen does have a lil beauty mark on his right cheek!

[ghostofhyuck]

NCT Dream and things in your shared apartment that makes sense.

Mark Lee ; subtle spiderman decorations.

It was a silly fandom joke but Mark took it seriously like lol okay spidermark we see you. So it makes sense that your shared apartment with him has some subtle spiderman decorations. And it's not like you two thought about it, it just happened that when you two go shopping and saw something spiderman-related, you two would buy it impulsively. There's a lego spiderman both in your apartment keys. A small spiderman figurine lay silently on the corner of bedside table. Or maybe there's a "I love Spiderman" magnet on your fridge too. Either way, it's cute and reminds you of your boyfriend so much. 

Huang Renjun ; touches of your favorite color.

When you two first bought the shared apartment, you and Renjun discussed about the overall design of the flat, especially the color combination. Making sure that you two can come in terms, your apartment felt like a light spring because of the color combination. You two made it worked and it feels like home for the two of you! Also, you two are very meticulous with the design, like it took you guys a week to fully designed the whole apartment but it was worth it because it turned out so beautiful! <3

Lee Jeno ; everything comes in pairs!

Like. Literally. Everything. Is a pair. That's why the Dreamies would complain why you two only have two sets of plates and utensils, and Jeno would shrug, it's not like you two need more lol. The first thing you'll see is two pairs of home slippers, and key holder only has two hook. There's one long couch that only fits two people, and in the bathroom, there's a pair of toothbrush rest idly on the holder! But it's a cute way to show that the apartment is owned by a couple who's very minimal and tranquil with their life. <3

Lee Donghyuck ; mismatched decorations

I feel like the overall aesthetic of your shared apartment with Haechan is kinda chaotic but the more you stare at it, the more you think that hey, it's not that bad at all. Like it's fine that your collection of sonny angels is right next to Haechan's pc set-up. Or how a lego figurine of a sportscar is line-up on top of a cabinet and then, there's this cute miffy lamp next to it. Everything's just mismatched but it's your shared apartment, and no one seems to bat an eye at the confusing aesthetic of the apartment. 

Na Jaemin ; photobooks as coffee table center

Okay mr. narcissism, it's no surprise that you have a set of photobooks on top of your coffee table. It probably contains: (1) pictures of you two on a vacation together, (2) portraits of the people he love the most, or (3) portraits of Dreamies! He swells in pride whenever there are guests and they would look into the photobook and just admire the portraits that he captured. Plus, it's placed in your shared apartment! He was just happy that his three kids hasn't chew the photobook yet, (and hopefully not!)

Zhong Chenle ; scattered bitten objects

It's not like your apartment's messy, but Daegal is such a hyper dog despite being your princess. She just loves to play and even though her teething phase is finished, she still lovesssss carrying objects to bite. You'll just go home to your apartment and find that Daegal had reached the throw pillow and now it's on the floor, ripped open with a few cottons on the floor and you couldn't be angry with her because she has her puppy eyes waiting for you. <3 Plus, you know how your boyfriend tolerates Daegal's biting habits lol. 

Park Jisung ; a bed full of plushies

OH. Your bed with Jisung is just full of plushies and that's because you're obsessed with plushies and couldn't sleep without cuddling one. (Jisung would complain that you should just cuddle him instead.) He only have a few plushies there but you tend to just fill the bed that when morning comes, some of the plushies were already on the floor. You would pick them up and apologize for pushing them off the floor while your boyfriend just stares at you. But at the same time, he doesn't mind because it's like you two have a big family whenever he goes home and sees the pile of plushies on the bed. 

[halsteadlover]

𝐇𝐨𝐰 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐚 𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐳𝐯𝐨𝐮𝐬?

*Gifs not mine credits to the owner*

• Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Female!Reader.

• Requested: no.

• Summary: you and Hotch have occasional rendezvous but each time you promise it’ll be the last even if neither of you seems to be able to stop.

• Warnings: smut, unprotected sex (don’t be like them you guys wrap it if you want to use it!!!), cursing, dirty talk, oral sex m. receiving, basically porn with no plot lol

• Word count: 1824.

• A/N: PLEASE READ THIS ONLY IF YOU’RE 18+ MINORS STAY AWAY. I hope you like this, let me know what you think. Comment, reblog and like if you want and as always thank you so much for your support.

“Oh fuck Hotch you feel so good…-” you moaned loudly as you kept riding him on his chair. Your shaking thighs burned, your aching knees pressing against on his chair as his dick thrusted deeper and deeper inside you.

His hands were gripping your hips as he accompanied your movements, grunting and trying to remain silent while his fingers pressed against your skin so hard they left marks on it.

He let go of your hip and covered your mouth when another groan escaped your lips, making your moans become just muffled sighs. “Shut up, you don't want them to hear us do you?”.

You shook your head, biting into his palm as you placed your hands on the arms of his chair for support while letting yourself get rocked by the immense pleasure he was giving you.

It was a mistake.

You knew it was.

But God what a beautiful mistake.

You couldn't help it.

Since the day you and Hotch ended up in bed one night after a case and a few drinks, you didn’t stop having these rendezvous, neither of you could help it. Every time you promised yourselves it’d be the last, but it was enough to find yourselves close, or your eyes to meet during the discussion of a case, or for some reason his hand to casually caress yours to break this promise.

You were just like a drug for each other. From that first dose you had that night, you could no longer go without that feeling of euphoria and pure ecstasy the sex gave you.

Aaron Hotchner was the most sinful thought that crossed your mind, the forbidden thing you always craved and God did you love it.

Maybe it was the fact you were a BAU agent and he was your boss, maybe it was the thrill of being discovered, maybe it was the taste of the forbidden – hell, what would the FBI have said if they knew the upright boss of the behavioral analysis unit was breaking the rules that he himself continually reiterated to his agents?

This, however, didn't stop either of you, indeed it was as if all this was fuel thrown on the fire, passion and desire you already felt.

At first you both managed to keep that passion at bay, having occasional sex in hotel rooms when you were out of town for a case. But the more time passed, the more difficult it became to suppress everything, to hide that you wanted to rip each other’s clothes off every minute of the day.

And that's why you found yourself in his office that evening, fucking near his desk while there were still some colleagues still in the bullpen.

“God I've been thinking about you and this damn skirt all day… Fuck… You’re irresistible,” he muttered, his eyes scanning your figure sitting on him as his dick fucked your wet pussy.

He was completely mesmerized.

Your skirt was rolled up around your hips, the sheer black stockings you were wearing until recently had been ripped by Hotch in the heat of passion, your panties were thrown to the floor, your shirt unbuttoned and your bra moved as your breasts popped out and bounced to the rhythm of your motion.

You looked like a fucking goddess.

The walls of your pussy started to clench around his dick, making him twitch inside you, your hips stuttering as you felt your orgasm building more and more. It was as if your body was going through convulsions and you couldn't control it, you just wanted and desired that intense pleasure that only Aaron Hotchner was able to give you.

He wrapped his lips around your breast, sucking and licking your nipple as you threaded your hands into his hair and pulled it. You bit your lower lip in an attempt to keep at bay the moans and gasps you was struggling to keep quiet.

“Just like that, oh yeah just like that you feel so good Hotch,” you whispered in a gasp, rolling your eyes and head back. His tongue licked your skin, from your breasts, then moving up your collarbone to your neck, kissing and sucking your skin until he left a mark.

Hotchner wasn't one for hickeys, he wasn't one for office sex in the workplace, he wasn't one for quickies, he wasn't one to break the rules that he himself had set but you managed to break down every single part of his barrier, you managed making him lose control in a way that he loved and hated at the same time, you managed to unleash emotions in him that he had never even felt in his life.

You were hurricane.

You were storm.

You were addiction.

And he couldn't get enough of you, never.

“Shit, fuck,” he cursed, biting and licking the skin of your shoulder as his thumb began drawing imaginary circles on your clit making your muscles tense even more and your movements more erratic. You almost had a heart attack from the intense pleasure that flowed through your veins. “God princess you ruin me.”

A breathtaking orgasm hit over you without any other warning like a raging river, making you dizzy and see stars. Your vision went blurry for a few moments, making you even forget you were in your boss' office and someone could actually hear you.

You tried to catch your breath but at that very moment there was a knock on the door, making both you and Hotch freeze in place, his hard dick still inside you. You exchanged a panicked look.

“Just one second.” Aaron had responded after clearing his throat and then continuing talking to you in a whisper, “Get under the desk.”

You nodded and lifted yourself off his legs, which had turned to jelly as you bent down and picked up your panties. You settled under the desk between his legs while he quickly tried to fix his hair and button up his shirt. He stood up and put on his pants, leaving them loose without bringing them up to his hips.

“Come in.”

Your heart was beating so wildly you could hear the pounding in your ears. You stayed paralyzed under the desk, too afraid to even breathe.

The door opened and you recognized Agent Anderson's voice. “I brought the Porters' case report from five days ago Agent Hotchner.”

He nodded, his expression completely serious and professional as he pretended to fill out a file he didn't even remember at the moment.

“Thank you Agent Anderson, leave it on my desk.”

Despite the fear of being discovered, however, you couldn't contain your excitement and the thought of driving him crazy couldn't leave your mind. You placed a hand on his inner thigh, trailing your fingers along his crotch with sensuality.

Aaron almost had a heart attack when you quietly pulled his underwear off enough for his dick to pop out again, still wet and damp from your fluids and you wrapped your hand around it, starting to jerk him off with slow, controlled pace.

“Agent Hotchner there was a thing about this case I wanted to ask you about…” Agent Anderson had asked.

Are you fucking kidding me right now?

Hotch nodded and pointed to the chair in front of his desk, his lips pressed together because he was afraid if he opened them only moans would come out.

Your hand increased its speed and Hotch let out a deep sigh as he leaned back in his chair, about to have a heart attack right then and now.

He looked at Anderson, he heard him talking but his brain couldn't process a single word he was saying, too focused on trying to keep a serious expression and not let on that there was a woman under his desk who was masturbating him.

But the final blow came when you wrapped your lips around his dick, taking it all in your mouth and tasting yourself on it. He let out a small moan which immediately covered with a cough, thanking god Anderson was too caught up in whatever he was saying to notice.

His hand reached below the desk and into your hair, pulling it harshly and making you almost moan at the sensation. This caused you to pick up your pace and Hotch didn't know whether to hate you or not at that moment.

He wanted you to stop.

But also for you to keep going because that fucking mouth of yours was pure ecstasy.

“Are you okay, agent Hotchner?” Anderson stopped at a certain point, noticing the way Hotchner continued to move in his chair and the blush on his cheeks.

“Y-yes, I apologize...” Hotch breathed out. “Lord,” he almost let out a groan which he tried to mask with another cough. “I’m not feeling very well these days. C-can…” he stopped again, swallowing another moan. “We’ll talk about t-this tomorrow Anderson. Excuse me.”

You couldn’t help but smirk to yourself, feeling victorious for making the always-so-serious SSA Aaron Hotchner a complete mess.

His thighs started to shake, his fingers still pulling your hair as you licked his dick, leaving a long string of saliva on his tip. You wrapped your lips around him again and a hand around the base, jerking him off while simultaneously taking it in your mouth. Your other hand rested on his thigh, pressing your nails on his hot skin.

Your mouth felt like heaven and it didn't take long for the orgasm to start building again after it was interrupted.

“Oh yes of course, I'm sorry. Get well soon then, g-good night agent Hotchner.” Anderson replied and jumped to his feet before mumbling some more nonsense and exiting the office, closing the door behind him.

Hotch let out a particularly deep sigh and rested his head on the edge of his chair as he continued to mercilessly fuck your mouth.

“You fucking little slut, you really can't help yourself huh?” He groaned, looking back at you. His grip around your hair tightened, forcing your head down and making you gag. “My needy little whore, look at you chocking on my dick… Fuck you’re gonna make me come.”

How could he make such derogatory names so damn sexy?

It didn't take long for Hotch to explode into an intense orgasm inside your mouth, not letting your head go until he watched you swallow every single damn drop of his cum.

He exhaustedly leaned back in his chair, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he waited for his breathing to calm down.

He took your hands and helped you out from under the desk, letting you sit on his lap and kissing you until taking your breath.

He gave you a sweet little kiss on your forehead, caressing your cheek with a thumb, tucking a lock of your hair behind your ear. “You'll be the death of me sooner or later, agent Y/Ln.”

General tag list: @hngbrooks, @alexxavicry, @mrspeacem1nusone, @halstead-severide-fan, @allivzs, @omniaimy, @cursedashes, @kmc1989, @firetruckstuckley, @23victoria

Aaron Hotchner tag list: @mrs-ssa-hotch, @s1lverhand, @novabckly, @thatcrimeshowchick

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[hoshifighting]

heyy back again with another ask since the first one you did was amazinggg

i was wondering if you could do a hoshi x female reader smut where the reader has stretch marks on her butt and hoshi goes feral because it reminds him of tiger stripes lol

okk that’s it for me have a great day/night <3

Where your stretch marks makes Hoshi reminds of a tiger.

a/n: hoshi is wild asf ab tigers osijdosjdsjd, have a good day/night sweetheart! ❤️🐯

warnings: smut, praising, penetrative sex, ...tigers.

as you stood before the mirror, the soft moonlight filtering through the room, casting a silvery glow on your body. you took in your reflection, noticing the faint stretch marks that adorned your butt – subtle reminders of the natural changes your body had undergone over time.

little did you know, your boyfriend, Hoshi, stood behind you, his eyes fixated on the delicate lines that traced your skin.

the moment Hoshi laid his eyes on your butt, his breath hitched and his pupils dilated. the sight of the stretch marks cascading down your butt cheeks, like the distinct stripes of a ''tiger in the wild'', sent a shockwave of desire coursing through his veins.

he couldn't help but marvel at how the ''tiger stripes'' accentuated the shape and contour of your curves, the very essence of feminine beauty.

unable to resist the allure, Hoshi stepped closer, his hands gently trailing over your curves, tracing the stretch marks with a light touch.

as Hoshi's touch trailed over your stretch marks, his voice dropped to a husky whisper, his words thick with desire and praise. "look at these…" he murmured, his fingers tracing the faint lines with a possessive touch. "they're perfect."

he continued to explore your body with his hands, lavishing appreciation on every curve and contour, his touch both reverent and possessive. his lips soon joined his hands, skimming along your skin, mapping each stretch mark with gentle kisses.

Hoshi pressed his body against yours, his cock warm and hard, making you acutely aware of his arousal. you couldn't help but chuckle softly at the palpable evidence of his hardness, a playful tease in your voice as you responded, "you seem very excited, baby." "Is this all because of stretch marks?"

your boyfriend let out a soft chuckle in response to your comment, his hands still roaming over your body with a mix of care and admiration. "well," he said, his voice slightly husky, "stretch marks aren't my only reason, but they're certainly among my favorite things about you."

as you melted against Hoshi, he couldn't help but tease you a bit, a mischievous grin spreading across his face. "you know," he murmured, his voice heavy with affection, "I find it adorable how quickly you melt whenever I bring up praisings."

"you're getting all gooey on me, huh?" he whispers on your ear, while spreading the meat of your ass, brushing the wet tip of his cock against your wet folds.

he bends you over your dressing table, his cock stretching your gummy walls, as you mewl his name. "mhm Soonyoung..."

he gently pulled your hair back, drawing you closer to him. "I'm going to show you just how much I adore every inch of you," he whispered, his voice a husky promise. "I'm going to make you mine in every way imaginable. you're like a wild tiger in my arms, and no one else can tame you but me."

[mickyschumacher]

[ICE CREAM CAKE!]

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: you and lando have a pretty healthy relationship; communication is a breeze between the two of you. and while that seems good, it doesn't help lando is horny 24/7. even the beach isn't safe from him.

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: 18+ (minors dni), established relationship, some fluff, blowjob, slight handjob, breastplay, poor humour LMAO aka old creepy mens' dicks, no time concept lol, basically lando time!

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: bf!lando norris x fem!reader

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 3k+

𝐀/𝐍: now playing: ice cream cake – red velvet! OKAY YES IK I HAVE REQUESTS BUT I HAD WRITER'S BLOCK TILL THIS OKAY? is it not obvious by the word count? 😭 alexa, play 'easy on me' by adele :( also new banners after i messed around one day! ♡︎ // proof-read-ish!

𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

You had met Lando two years ago purely on accident. You were at a coffee shop in Brighton, he was visiting a friend there. You ordered a hot chocolate and he had ordered a long black. Somehow the both of you had swapped cups and were wincing at how sweet or bitter the drink was.

Lando had turned his cup around to see who the cup belonged to. Upon seeing your name, unlike a normal person who would ask the barista for another cup or a refund, he had shouted your name across the room.

Lucky for you, you were the only other customer there since it was a slow day. Nevertheless, you looked up in shock. Who yelled out your name? Why? How did they know your name?

You actually purposely avoided eye-contact with his table just in case he was some weird guy. But Lando got your attention after telling you from across that room that you had some sweet taste in drinks.

You raised a brow. Was this some sort of new catcall you didn't know about? But then you had caught the barista's handwriting on 'your' cup. Lando, Long Black.

You scrunched your nose at the cup and looked at him. "You're quite bitter."

It was at that point when Lando had got a clear shot of your face and found his heart racing faster than normal. You were pretty, no gorgeous, no beautiful, no... surreal. Your face was contorted into a grimaced expression at his order which he found amusing. You looked like, what he still claims to this day, part of the shop's couch. The couch was brown and you were wearing a brown sweater.

Honestly, Lando couldn't find the whole situation anymore endearing. So with whatever confidence he had leftover, he walked up to your table and smoothly asked, "Can I get you a sweeter one with my number?"

Now this was when you first had probably got a look of Lando. He had a certain... boyish charm, if you will. The wide grin, sparkling blue eyes, face dotted with the odd freckle or beauty mark. To say he was attractive was an understatement. He looked like one of the main characters in the rom-coms you would binge when you needed a pick me-up.

You said yes. Obviously.

And here you were, two years later. At the beach with Lando, Charles, Carlos, Daniel, and their partners. You were all caught up with F1, always available for Lando. Your perspective of him had changed quite a lot since you had met him. In a good way, of course.

You initially saw him how a lot most of his fans and the media see him. A comedian by day and a moodmaker by night. Always smiling and cheery. Positive and optimistic. But the reality was that Lando struggled with the mental and physical aspects of F1. He didn't always have the confidence and he was stressed and depressed.

But as Lando always said in his interviews, he had found you.

'The best thing that had ever happened to him,' according to Lando himself.

Anyone could see that the two of you loved each other with your entire beings. Neither of you left any stone unturned in your relationship. Most people were jealous of your relationship. The drivers, the media, and especially the fans.

And you wouldn't have it any other way.

━━━━━━━━━━━

One thing about Lando that you had learned quite soon after your first time together was that Lando was insatiable. He was sex-driven, horny, full of lust, aroused... all the words in the dictionary for a man like this... 24/7.

One day, you asked him why. Lando only responded with pulling you closer to him, leaving a trail of kisses from your jaw and down to your neck, and saying "You."

You wouldn't say anything did it for him. No in fact, it was specific things that he couldn't take his mind off once he thought about it.

Take right now for example.

Carlos had decided to treat everyone to ice creams, ice lollies, and juice on your trip to the beach in Playa de Bolonia. Innocently and naively, you had chosen the pink ice lolly out the chilly bin. Lando had also not thought anything of it.

Rather Lando had being eyeing you with every spare glance as you were wearing his favourite bikini, the one he had bought you for Christmas as a prank gift in the nice British winter thinking it had been the funniest thing ever. Obviously, he thought you were going to were it but another thing you had learned was that Lando's humour quite often was unmatched and spontaneous.

The bikini itself was simple. An orange, of course, two-piece. The top was held up by two moderately thin straps and hugged your breasts quite nicely. The bikini bottom was as normal as it could get, clinging to your hips. On top of it, you wore a white thin-laced cotton coverup, loosely tied together.

You would say it was an average beach look. Lando would disagree. It was as if God himself had carved you and decided to put you on Earth as reparations for the bad in the world.

But back to the point.

As mentioned, Lando hadn't really thought of the ice lolly. He was too busy trying to get Daniel back with a water gun. Like you said, boyish. It wasn't until he had finally got him back and decided to go sit down with you and grab himself some ice cream.

But when Lando sat down and looked at you, his mind had suddenly turned into shambles. There you were. Under the shade, peaks of sun shining on your skin, holding that pink ice lolly to your mouth.

Lando wasn't quite sure what was worse. The faint pink colour similar to his cock or the way your tongue travelled down the length of it to collect the melting sugary liquid. Or how your lips pressed up on the tip of the ice and pressed down to take an inch more of it into your mouth as if it was his own cock.

To make matters even worse for him, you had failed to capture some of the melting droplets. Lando keenly watched as they fell to your bare part of your chest and even had landed right where he knew your nipple was. His eyes widened ever so slightly and his breath paced when you frowned at the event and used your finger to wipe the sweet liquid off your skin and into your mouth. Some of it had gone too far down, probably pooling near your breasts like he imagined.

What sent him overboard? When you had spotted the stain on your bikini top over your nipple and attempted to rub it away, only making the stain worse and a small bump for your pebbled nipple.

Lando gulped nervously, pants incredibly tight. He closed his eyes and held his hands over his newly-formed hard on, wishing that his mind wasn't full of everything he had just seen. Your lips... your breasts... the way your eyes looked down at the popsicle... if only that was his cock....

"Lando? Dude, do you need to go to the bathroom?" Pierre's voice cut through the air.

Lando snapped his eyes opened and your eyes looked over to your boyfriend.

"W-What?" The British male queried with slight panic. He was not getting caught with a hard-on in front of his friends... there was no way in Earth...

Pierre raised a brow, gesturing to his pants. "You're ice cream is all melted. You need to take your eyes off Y/N at least sometimes, Lando, otherwise you'll never finish... your ice cream, that is," He teased.

You looked down at Lando's pants where his hands laid, covered in the white vanilla ice cream-turned liquid. You and everyone let out an amused laugh at Pierre's joke, shaking your head.

You stood up from the sandy grass you were sat on, dusting yourself off. You extended your hand to Lando, "Come on. I bought extra stuff in the car. Honestly, I thought you were going to lose your trunks by Daniel pantsing you in the water but I guess not."

A howl of laughter came from Charles and Carlos while Daniel cursed himself for not doing it.

Lando blinked, pulling the finger at his fellow drivers. He sighed, grabbing your hand and awkwardly standing up from the area, managing to cover up his bulge swiftly.

The two of you headed to the car as Lando briefly threw out the sticky wrapper and stick into a bin nearby. You opened the boot of the car, grabbing his trunks. "Jesus, could it get any hotter today?" You asked, closing the back door.

"It really couldn't," Lando mused, walking hand-in-hand with you, making you release a groan.

"Lando... now my hand's all sticky, you idiot," You complained, trying to pull apart from his hand.

Lando rolled his eyes, arriving to the empty males changing room. He was about to enter when he saw you stand outside and not follow him. "What are you doing? Come in."

You narrowed your eyes. "It's a male changing room. I'm not going in. What if there's some old man trying to change? I do not need to be scarred for life. My DMs is enough, thanks."

"First of all, there's no one here," Lando stated before shouting a loud 'Hello' into the room, making you redden with embarassment. "See? Secondly, I'm sorry, let me get this straight, your DMs are full of old men's dicks?" Lando looked at you incredulously.

You grinned, shrugging. "It's called being a woman, Lando. You wouldn't get it."

Lando rolled his eyes once again, grabbing you by the arm and dragging you into the changing room.

The room was the opposite of most changing rooms. It was tiled well, clean and fresh as opposed to musty, damp and with paint-chipped walls. There were also no leaky taps or showers or even any graffiti. It was slightly comforting to know that at least people respected some of their public rooms, even in Madrid.

"Wait, also, what if I get old? You don't want to see my shrivelled dick? It should turn you on!" Lando asked with a dramatic gasp.

You looked at your boyfriend through the mirror with a dumfounded expression. Turning, you threw his trunks at his face. "Go change," You laughed, shaking your head.

Lando grinned underneath the trunks as you turned the tap on to wash your sugar-coated hands.

Lando had removed his trunks, left naked with his hard, reddened cock slapping against his stomach, and was about to put on the new ones when a thought passed his mind.

You paused your hand-washing and froze when you felt Lando's arms wrap around your stomach, pulling you close to his bare body. "Lando," You yelped, feeling a shiver cross your body, "What are you doing?"

Lando peered down at you through his thick eyelashes. He tucked his chin into your shoulder, placing a brief kiss. "What?" He asked innocently, "I'm just washing my hands. I can't get the new ones dirty either."

You watched through the mirror as he pressed his body into you, washing his hands under the tap, ridding the tackiness on his hands.

You sucked in a sharp breath, feeling his cock push into your backside. It was bare, you realised, as the heat spread into you. Your eyes flickered to Lando through the mirror, squinting at him. He wasn't...

Lando caught your eyes staring hard at him. "Don't look at me like that," He whispered into your ear, a loose grin hanging on his face. His wet fingers travelled to the poorly tied lace coverup you wore, undoing the knot with ease. The coverup fell against your shoulders, revealing your bikini and body in all it's glory.

"You have to clean up as well," Lando shrugged, eyes fixated on you through the mirror. "You made a mess," He murmured, wetting his fingers with the water once more before placing it against your chest.

You pressed your lips tightly, feeling his fingers drive down your skin and underneath your bikini top. Lando's fingers brushed your hardened nipples, making you shudder under his touch. His fingers trailed across your breasts, wiping away any of that sticky residue that you had missed. Bringing his fingers to his mouth and taking a wide lick of them, Lando grinned at you. "You know... I can't stop picturing you sucking my dick like that ice lolly. Never thought I would be jealous of an ice lolly."

You couldn't help but smile in amusement. You pulled away from his hold and turned to face your boyfriend. "Yeah?" You hummed, hands trailing down his chest. Lando had been working out a lot more these days for F1; compared to before his abs had become more prominent and toned. You loved Lando no matter what he looked like, but there was something about the way his skin flushed when you touched his torso.

Lando's breath hitched as your hand had ever so naturally found it's way to his cock. His cock, if you could say it, was pretty. It was average in length and with a nice, filling girth, stretching all of your holes wide.

Your fingers brushed across the tip of his head, just grazing his slit. You could feel Lando jolt in your hands as he muttered, “Fuck.”

You opened your mouth, letting a drop of saliva full into his cock. Hand wrapped around it, you gently rubbed natural lube up and down his shaft. Lando’s jaw clenched at the warm liquid nestling around his cock, letting a sharp exhale through gritted teeth.

Slowly you sunk down to your knees. The tiled floor was cold against your burning skin but it didn’t matter: you were too focused on what was right in front of you; cockdrunk. Your tongue darted out to swipe your lips before pressing a light kiss to his cock. Lando could feel himself twitch, aching to be in your mouth.

He watched as your lips opened like they did on that ice lolly. Going down in his cock, your lips stretched and your mouth hollowed.

Lando groaned at the warmth surrounding his cock. He bit down on his lip, watching his cock disappear into your mouth. Your eyes were on him as you sucked him, teeth barely grazing his skin.

"Fuck, you look so pretty like this, Y/N," Lando sighed out, "On your knees for me. I can't imagine the mess you made between those legs of yours, hmm?"

You moaned in response, sending a vibration around his cock. You briefly pulled away from him, making Lando grunt in slight annoyance at the loss. "These lips, my pussy.... all yours," You winked at him before returning to his cock.

Lando tensed at your words, letting a grin overtake him. "Yeah? Let's see about that throat, baby?" His hands reached your half dry and half damp, salty hair. Wrapping those long tresses around his hand and wrist, he tightened his grip. He could feel you open up your throat as he guided his cock down the tighter tunnel.

Lando's rasping groan made you clench your thighs, holding a barrier to the wetness leaking at of you. You could feel him begin to move his hips, beginning to push his cock into your throat.

Fighting the urge to gag around his cock, you tried hard to relax your cheeks and mouth, allowing every inch of him to be seated in your throat.

He flickered his eyes to you. Watching you take him in his mouth was a pleasure of its own. Your big eyes were glassy with tears of arousal and a haze of lust, sweat and saliva lingered at every edge of your skin, and your lips were puffy and red. Trailing his eyes further down, he spotted your bare neck in dire need of kisses, but that wasn't the most striking thing about it. It was the slight bulge of his cock in your throat making it's presence known.

Jesus...

Lando instinctively closed his eyes upon feeling your hands touch his balls. You rubbed them gently, feeling your head bob at an increased rate to match the sudden pace of Lando's cock in your throat.

"Fuck, fuck... I..." Lando moaned. "I'm gonna cum!" Lando hissed out, feeling a familiar bubbling feeling overcome. His thrusts become harder and faster, your nose flushed with his skin.

His moans became irregular and higher, chasing his release. "Fuck...." A guttural groan fell from his lips. Hot, salty white strips of his cum coated the inside of your mouth, swirling around after each drop was sucked from your lips. Almost painfully, Lando removed himself from your mouth. His chest rose up and down as he breathed out heavily.

An admiring smile came from Lando while he pulled you up to meet his face. He pushed your sweaty hair back. "That mouth of yours is evil," He narrowed his eyes playfully.

"You should shut me up then," You quipped back, sticking out your tongue that still had his cum on it.

Lando's eyes sparkled with amusement before he brought his lips to yours, darting his tongue into your mouth. The urgency in the action was understated. God, he could taste himself in you. His hands encapsulated your waist, flushing your barely clothed body to close his naked one. Your own hands travelled everywhere across his chest as the two of you kissed each other.

The muffled moans from you made Lando want to hear them out loud. Slowly he moved from your lips to your jaw. "Let me hear you, baby," He breathed out, placing smaller kisses as he reached your neck.

You let out a small whimper, neck tilting so Lando could get more access. Lando grinned at the sight of your bare neck, leaving small little nibbles across your skin. His lips eventually became settled in an area between your ear and collarbone, beginning to suck at your warmth.

"Lando," You moaned, "No, the others will realise."

Your refutes were ill-attempted even for yourself. You were dazed at the suction of his lips. His nose buried into your neck while he created a fresh layer of purple against your sun-kissed skin.

Lando released himself from your neck, eyeing down his creation with a smirk. "There. If they couldn't tell from your hair, they'll definitely know now."

You narrowed your eyes, turning to the mirror only for your eyes to widen in shock. "Jesus fucking Christ, Lando," You peered at the big purple brown splotch on your skin. "As if the 20 minutes we've spent here wasn't enough," You whined.

Lando laughed softly, standing behind you with his arms around your waist and chin resting on your head. "Well... if you make it through the shame, I can't wait to properly fuck you when we get home. You must know how much I love the way you look when I’m inside you."

Your head fell against his chest with a pout. "Why not now?"

Lando grinned before pressing a kiss to your head "Like you said... it's been 20 minutes."

© 𝐌𝐈𝐂𝐊��𝐒𝐂𝐇𝐔𝐌𝐀𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐑

[somewhereincairparavel]

Alright. I came across someone saying that Rick "put Jason in a pedestal" and "overhyped" him by emphasizing how good looking he is and that Jason shouldn't have been so attractive looking. (Tbf tho that person made it sound like they seemed more mad bc their least favourite character was considered good looking lol) but I'll yap about the significance here anyways. Beware of a very long yapping session below.

I do understand their frustration though, because jason getting told that he looks good all the time makes it seem very shallow and unfair to the others.

And let me tell you, Jason is SUPPOSED to be gorgeous looking in everyone's eyes. He is supposed to be conventionally handsome, Rick didn't intend for his looks to be "beauty is in the eyes of the beholder " or something like Percy's (like how Piper didn't find him as impressive) Percy's is supposed to be more authentic. Percy's character isnt centred in people idolizing him, everyone can acknowledge that he's handsome looking, but it isn't in a "perfect" type of way, he's a carefree spirit and that reflects on his looks. While Jason is hardwired as this ethereal looking hero in people's eyes that not even ONE can deny that he looks good, bc ppl in Rome had set him as the "standard". Jason said this before in the lost hero, that him being a son of Jupiter, makes him feel like the support he gets is only because his dad is a very regal and intimidating figure.

That's kind of the whole point, he's supposed to look like this perfect man who can do no wrong. His "Golden noble boy" arc is literally the whole concept of his character. Why else do you think rick wrote Aphrodite approving of Jason's looks saying that he needed no improvement (which she rarely does) ?

Because Jason is supposed to be put like a statue to admire and idolize, that's ALSO why rick made sure to add that Jason looks like a Roman sculpture, bc that's like a metaphor for his inner conflicts. The guy was put like an artifact for people to ogle at in camp Jupiter ever since he was a kid of 4. That's part of the tragedy.

Annabeth said it perfectly “Annabeth tried to hide it, but she still didn’t completely trust the guy. He acted too perfect - always following the rules, always doing the honorable thing. He even looked too perfect. In the back of her mind, she had a nagging thought. What if this is a trick and he betrayed us?” Mark of Athena, page 6.

His mother, whom he's supposed to look like, is also a literal world wide tv actress. So you can't expect anything less either.

Also, Jason is supposed to mirror Percy. And let's be real. Rick put Percy in a VERY high pedestal looks wise, aswell, Not just Jason. And that's okay.

Rick made Hazel mistake Percy for a literal god because he was just that good looking (tbf, in a way, when I was younger, I found this to be a little bit of an exaggeration, bro was covered in mud and seaweed and was compared to a god, it was rlly funny to a 10 year old me 😭 yeah but don't mind this though, this was just a younger me jealous that I couldn't be as pretty as Percy was in mud lol) If Percy can be "hyped" up so "unrealistically" in that particular situation then so can Jason. They are both literal half gods, so unrealistic praise is very normal) and rick also made sure to emphasize that almost all the teen characters had a crush on Percy. So apparently that isn't called putting a character in a pedestal but Jason's is? They are BOTH put in pedestals, because they're both heroes.

Jason and Percy are supposed to be equals, so both of them being in the top two when it comes to looks makes SENSE. Because people are supposed to argue about who is better looking, since they're written as foils.

You cannot expect rick to make Percy look like a god and Jason look like a rat 😭 then there's no point of having them as parallels if one has the upper hand in something. Rick did a good job by conveying that they are BOTH attractive, but in different ways. That's why the Percy/Jason looks debate always have mixed answers.

Jason getting complimented by Aphrodite, the GODDESS of beauty, for his looks and her saying that he didn't have anything to "fix" in his face BC it already looks gorgeous = Percy getting compared to a gorgeous Roman god by hazel. They are both equal comparisons in slightly different tones.

[judasgot-it]

Soulmate AU

"I can't believe you said that. You know that's going to be on my chest for the rest of my life now, right?"

Scenario: You and your soulmate meet. It's hard convincing yourselves that it's a good thing.

I'm timeskipping a bit, think of this as a sort of slowburn lol.

8,700 k words (jesus crhist)

Every person had spots on their body that marked the things that showed what their soulmate did that day.

Typically, they appeared at the age of five. Usually, they would be words and sentences, or pictures, sometimes depicting ideas. It was representative of what their soulmate was like - sometimes they were in different languages, or had patterns that only their soulmate could discern.

There was always one mark that would appear, and stay on the body for what was usually for the rest of someone's life. Sometimes small, sometimes big.

Some people were born with theirs. Others had theirs appear at the end of their life. They were rather random, it seemed.

Yours was strange. It wasn't a picture, and it wasn't a poem. It wasn't a sentence, and it wasn't anything compared to your family or classmates. When you were twelve, you had gained a large pattern on your back - something that if you reached around, you could feel mostly with your fingers.

If you squinted, you could maybe see it, but it seemed invisible.

Your mother had told you that it was almost like a scar, but it wasn't ugly. There was a pattern, but no one seemed to really know what it meant.

It was hard to really know what it was from looking at it in the mirror. To you, it looked like just a splattering of lighter and darker skin, now slightly raised in some areas. It was only visible in the light, and looked like you had splashed bleach on your skin.

All you knew was that it hadn't gone away in weeks. The doctor had said that it was most likely one of those marks that lived forever, and was possibly a sign that your soulmate was blind. Either that or some sort of fucked up artist.

It had left you angry for months. You didn't know why, but it upset you - maybe because you had expected a poem that would tell you how much you were adored, like your friend had. Or cute portrait, of some beautiful vacation spot.

You still wanted to dream. But instead, you got something had you scratching your back like a madman, trying to understand something that you couldn't. It left you impatient, trying to understand a puzzle that apparently, only a blind man or an asshole could solve.

Maybe both.

When you met your soulmate, you were going to slap the shit out of him.

-

At sixteen, you had debated on whether or not your soulmate was worth 'waiting for' or 'finding'. There was a big debate going on for decades anyway - was it worth falling in love with your soulmate?

Part of you wanted to try falling in love with someone else. Maybe it was because you had seen soulmates who hated each other - they had words permanently etched onto their bodies that said:

"I hate you" and "I hope that you die"

Seemed like proof enough that it was fake.

Your own soulmate seemed less like a real concept, and more like a cloud in the sky. There were never pictures of his day, or that many words to hear about. It was only feelings - there were cuts that had showed up along your skin, long lines that were in concerning places.

Once you had one show up along your chest, underneath your breast. You weren't sure if it would work, but you had written "Stay alive" and hoped it would show up along his skin. You wrote it in Sharpie and kept it there for days, just in case he needed the reminder.

He never seemed to have any words back. The only words you ever read on your skin were concerning. Once, words had shown up along your arm, written in a messy cursive, almost impossible to read:

"Go ahead and kill yourself. I don't need you anyway."

That started to convince you that your soulmate might have deserved the knife in the chest.

Despite this, you could never bring yourself to go past a second date. None of the guys who asked you out seemed to really 'click' in the way you really thought you would.

One of them was so bad, you had taken the Sharpie out and had added "I love you" close to where you remember adding the line.

If your soulmate really was blind, it was most likely a stupid thing to write - if it even showed up. But it made you feel better in the moment, so what was the harm?

-

When you were in your 20s, you had graduated university.

You didn't know what your soulmate was doing, but you had started to care less than you did when you were younger.

Before, it tore at you - there were a lot of dreams and ideas you had of what he was like, and what it would be like when you finally met the one person made for you.

Over time, you learned to accept that there was a chance you might not ever meet him. You knew people like that - those whose soulmates died, and those who never had them. Those who had met them late in life, and were still living good lives.

You had become content. In a way, your life had become better, knowing that you didn't need someone else there in order to live your own life.

There were friends you had. And you had an apartment. And now, you had a new job, one that was respectable and you had worked hard for. Life was looking up.

Part of you was convinced that your soulmate was either dead or still living a life that would lead to it. The marks that showed up were the same as when you were sixteen - they were lesser than before, but they were still scary when they did show up.

There were more words now as well. Something changed, as they were more positive.

"Stay behind me, I'll protect you."

That was one that had shown up today. Along your inner thigh, making you glad you wore shorts today.

Maybe he wasn't in a gang but was just a cop with a bad attitude. Unfortunately, your soulmate had never said his name, and you had no clues as to how to find him.

-

This job was great. But god, the military really couldn't keep a damn thing organized.

You might be the only person who knew where anything was at this point. Which left you carrying several boxes of confidential files to the office of Ouchi Fukuchi directly, because no one else knew where to find the paperwork that was needed.

He was also three months behind on all of it. Which was fine, it was only a matter of national security, after all. It wasn't an important thing, really. Who cared?

You weren't stressed about it at all.

"Do you need help?" A voice filtered through the elevator, and you almost cried with relief. The boxes were heavy, and based on the man's voice, he sounded like someone who actually could handle carrying them.

Unlike you at the moment, who was using every last bit of strength you had in order to keep them from spilling all over the carpet at the moment.

You worked at a desk. This was more lifting in a day than you did a year. Yes, of course you could use some help. Obviously.

"Yes. Can you push the number for Mr. Fukuchi's office? And also grab one of these boxes? If you aren't busy."

You were praying that he wasn't busy. Those few seconds as you waited felt like hell, but eventually you felt the man's hands touch your own, taking the boxes from your arms and relieving the agonizing weight from your spine.

Sighing, you leaned against the elevator door, feeling how it slowly lifted up to the highest story. Slowly, because despite appearances, the Hunting Dogs headquarters had disgustingly slow elevators despite the million-dollar planes they had parked in the vicinity.

The stairs might have been faster, honestly.

You could also have avoided the man's staring - the brunette was tall, and he glanced at your exposed skin as if you were naked. You turned to the doors, avoiding his gaze.

"Do you, know your soulmate?"

The man was blunt, his honey eyes staring directly at your wrist. He was holding the boxes as if they weighed nothing, and watching him made your back hurt more. What did they feed those military guys?

"No, I don't. Sorry, I know it's nasty. I feel bad for whoever Tecchou is, he doesn't seem to get along with him."

You tried to laugh it off, looking down at your wrist. Right there, you could see what your soulmate had said today, in the same messy cursive he always spoke in:

"Go to hell Tecchou, your food is always shit and I hope you die."

It had only shown up right when you had to go and deliver the files. Because of course it did - your soulmate really had to embarrass you like that in front of everyone.

You remembered when you were twelve you said you would smack the shit out of him. Maybe you would still do that, because right now it felt embarrassing to be stared at like that.

It wasn't your fault your soulmate had such a foul mouth.

Now you were going to meet the leader of the Hunting Dogs, and he was going to see what an embarrassment of a soulmate you had.

Thank god it wasn't on your forehead, at least.

The doors of the elevator opened, and you tried to keep your body straight and rigid, waiting for a greeting from Fukuchi himself. You watched the brunette walk in with the files, straight to the front of the desk as if it were habit.

You followed behind him, hoping you made a good impression.

"Ouchi Fukuchi! I am-"

Before you could finish your greeting, the man held a hand towards you.

"Tecchou, didn't I tell you to take a walk?" The older man was stern, and you stayed silent in hopes that he didn't turn his cold gaze towards you.

"...She looked like she was struggling." His voice was deep and monotone, and he looked almost bored from behind the stack of files he was hiding behind.

"So you decided to be an errand boy?"

"Yes."

There was a silence. You couldn't tell what was going on between the two men, but you were terrified. The look Fukuchi gave was terrifying, worse than was portrayed in the films you had seen before - he was scarier in person. His gaze was intense, as if he was trying to kill the man with his eyes.

"Sir, if I may add. They are very heavy, and I appreciated the help a lot."

You didn't know what came over you. Both men looked at you, and it had you putting your arms and head down, praying that the floor would eat you.

Fuck. You just needed to deliver the files and just go back to your office. You didn't even work for the Hunting Dogs, you worked for a completely different part of the government. This wasn't your business to get into.

"Sorry. Um...Those files, there is a file on top about their contents. They are to be completed and sent out ASAP. Requested by the prime minister. Apologies."

Your voice was firm, despite the sweat that was collecting on your palms. Without looking at anyone or anything, you nodded at the men and walked out, pressing the button for the ground floor several times.

This was terrifying.

-

The Hunting Dogs were hunting you. Ironic, but you now had one of them showing up at your office, wanting to 'talk' - what was there to even talk about?

You had only been there for maybe ten minutes at most, like, a week ago. If something happened in that facility, you had no part in it.

If you could, you would hide underneath your desk forever. But that most likely made them think you were guilty of whatever crime they suspected you of, and you did not want to seem like a criminal to them.

Their investigation tactics were more than infamous. You did not want to become another horror story.

Steeling yourself, you walked out, bracing for the inevitable interrogation that was about to follow. The man that was waiting for you was standing with a little girl - you vaguely remembered her as the vice-captain, although the man you couldn't really place his name.

His two-toned hair seemed familiar though. You might have seen it on a photograph before, when you were told about the group in a discussion about how lazy they were with paperwork. His closed eyes seemed strange, but tried to avoid them.

The man smiled at you, and it seemed more calculating than warm and friendly. The girl, someone you remembered to be known for her combat skills, didn't seem to be interested. She only blinked at you, bored at your office outfit.

You had to convince him that you were innocent. Of whatever it was that they had thought you were guilty of.

"So. Trying to get all pretty for me?"

The man was grinning, and you didn't know what to say. He had taken a step closer, and out tried to stay as still as possible, slowing your breathing.

If it was fight or flight, you chose freeze.

Keeping your face calm was hard, but you paused your breaths, trying your best to keep your body as cool as possible as the two didn't state why it was urgent that they speak to you. In the middle of your work day.

"Um. Is there a reason why you guys asked to see me?"

You were staring at the daisy-haired man's forehead, praying that he didn't notice that you were trying your hardest to not make eye contact with him.

"Did you deliver files to Fukuchi?"

The girl was bored, rocking her feet back and forth, slapping the man next to her with her ponytail.

"Um. Yes. I did."

"And did you meet a man named Tecchou Suehiro while you were there?"

"The brunette?"

"Yes. And tall, with three stupid tattoos under his eyes. Did you meet him?"

"I believe so, yes. He helped me carry the files to Mr. Fukuchi's office."

"What did your arm say that day?"

That was an odd question. That wouldn't have something to do with any sort of crime, would it? Or were you not thinking straight?

"Oh. Something about killing a man named Tecchou."

It felt like a pause button had been pressed at that moment.

Tecchou was an uncommon name. And Fukuchi had certainly called that man in the elevator by that name as well. How could you have missed that detail?

"...Why are you asking me about that?"

Tecchou had asked about the mark too, now that you had thought of it.

"Did my soulmate kill him?"

Either that, or Tecchou had killed him, and this was how you were going to find out that your soulmate was dead. He was dead and gone before you had ever gotten to meet him. Just one of those tragic cases of a love that never got to happen.

You steeled yourself for the news, taking in a deep breath.

"Jouno your soulmate is stupid."

The girl walked away, huffing and shaking her head. The man in front of you, Jouno, clapped your shoulder, breathing out a sigh.

"Tecchou is still alive. Unfortunatly."

The man's eyes hadn't opened to look at you, staying closed as he struggled to find the words. He was in your space, and you could taste how he struggled to find the words to say what he wanted to say.

Somehow, he was still smiling through the awkwardness, but you had started to realize-

He was blind. And your soulmate.

Your soulmate was always blind.

The strange spot on your back made more sense now. It wasn't some stupid art piece, but most certainly something he felt because he was blind.

"-I don't think I need to say anything. You know."

The man gave up on forming sentences, instead choosing to rub your shoulder and smile.

"Um. Yeah."

You spent nearly twenty years waiting to meet this man, and this is all you had to say? Wasn't there something more?

"Um. Shouldn't we do something?" His hand was still on you, and you didn't know if you should tell him to let go or not. This was the first time you had ever met, and frankly - you actually liked it a little bit. He was warm, and he didn't give you a weird feeling compared to some other people.

"Do what?"

"I don't know. We're soulmates. Shouldn't we like, have a moment?"

In the movies you had seen, there were soulmates who would meet and have a 'magical contact' moment. You couldn't look into his eyes and swoon, but surely he was having a magic moment right now? Wasn't he going to ask you on a date and try to live with you forever or something?

This should have been the start of...something.

"No. This is good enough. Honestly, I'd rather not see you again."

Or not.

His face didn't portray anything - he was still smiling, as if he was working at a front desk and not meeting his soulmate for the first time. You felt like you were looking into it, but surely he also wanted something more?

That smile couldn't be real.

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me. It's nothing with you, but it's probably best if we don't try to make this a thing."

He let go finally, and that shoulder felt cold as he stepped away. You didn't know what to say, watching as he slowly removed himself from the little bubble the two of you had.

There was magic, and there was no magic. It was a mirage, more like it.

"So. You just, wanted to meet me, I guess?"

"Just know that you're alive. And you are. Good for us."

Us. But there is no us, because there is no thing, apparently. Just a him, and now you had to suppose a you. A lonely, singular you.

"Sorry. Um. Yeah, okay. Then let's not talk. That's fine."

It wasn't. Or maybe it was. You didn't know what to think, because your soulmate, who you now knew was the Hunting Dog Jouno, had come and gone in what felt like a matter of seconds.

But you supposed that was the end of it. You met your soulmate, and you would never see him again.

So why were you about to cry?

-

Ever since that meeting, the universe had been playing tricks on you. Or whoever had deemed soulmates to be a thing.

Before, whatever Jouno had put onto your body was so abstract that you could barely understand it. Now it felt like he was playing tricks on you.

"If I die, I don't care."

It felt like he was playing a game. You had only met him once, but if he died, you would care.

You would care so much.

The petty part of you had taken to those high school days, grabbing your sharpie and writing little responses underneath those types of sentences.

"I care." and "I love you, stay safe." was something you had started to write over and over again on your body.

It likely didn't matter. He was blind. But if it ever showed up on his skin, you hoped someone on his team would see it.

Part of you wanted to write it on your forehead and neck, just to shame him. Maybe he didn't care, but you cared - he would have everyone know just how much his soulmate cares about him.

But you didn't want to wash that off. You also were sure that your concealer wasn't going to cover that up.

It would just make the both of you look stupid.

-

Your day was just going great.

Great. As in, you were stuck next to a shitty criminal, who was pulling at your nice dress and tearing the buttons along the back.

This was expensive.

God. What a dickhead.

And who was going to save you from this guy? He had some weird fucked up ability, and it was freaking you out.

You didn't really deal with that stuff.

This was a time when you chose to freeze again. You wanted to choose something else - to fight back and be brave, or to run, do something.

But you felt frozen. It was honestly hard to breathe, but that might have been from how your dress was pulling against your neck, restricting your airflow.

"Oh shit, it's the Hunting Dogs."

The guy next to you groaned, and you tried your hardest to disappear as you felt him tug and pull you around.

The gunshots were loud, and you were stuck choosing between covering your ears and pulling against your dress as the man tried to choke you with it.

You chose your ears, in the end. However many gunshots he fired, you didn't count, instead trying your best to become a ball. One that would be unmovable, immune to the hellfire that was happening.

Maybe if you became deadweight, he would drop you and run away. He had no reason for you, right?

You didn't know why he chose to use you as a distraction anyway. This was your day off, couldn't he have chosen any other person?

"Goddammit, I said get up!"

The man pulled at your hair, and you screamed. As much as you fought back, clawing at his arms, he started to drag you away from his little spot in the building, to the open area where you could see a whole crowd had gathered.

It was hard to see if any of the Hunting Dogs were actually there, as you could only focus on the pain you were in.

Weren't they going to do their jobs? What the fuck was taking so long.

This felt like it was taking forever. This guy was tugging you around, and talking about something that you couldn't even bring yourself to care about. It was something that a man who would try to blow up a building would say - they're spying on us, they're killing us, they made it all up. Whoever they are, and whoever the us is. It didn't matter, because now your day was ruined.

Maybe you were pathetic, still trying to fight back. The guy seemed ridiculously strong.

"Run."

The word was whispered to you, in a soft voice and with a gentle hand on your back. It might have only been a second - but the moment the grip loosened on your hair, you took the moment to run.

God knows where. But you ran. It might have been the fastest you had ever been in your life, if you were being honest with yourself.

You were just glad the nightmare was over.

-

Ever since that...event. You haven't had a good dream since.

It was hard too. You would wake up to the violent hair pulling, the smells, and there would be that voice at the end each time.

You would be crying, and each time the voice would say something different. In real life, all he had said was "Run" but in your dreams, he said rather sweet things.

They were things that frankly, you had wanted to hear. He had a gentle voice for a man, and it was hard to believe that it was the same voice as your soulmate.

You kept pretending that it wasn't him. As time went on, you were more hurt by the words he said, you started to pretend that the voice you heard was just a different man you had conjured up.

Something you made while you were delirious with fear. And now he was haunting your dreams, because you were a lonely and loveless woman, who couldn't stop crying in her kitchen because she was scared of something that had already happened.

It was stupid. You knew it was stupid, and you just wanted to be over it. But for some reason, you were left sitting at the table again, forcing yourself to drink a glass of water and play through another round of solitaire.

The knocking on the door scared the shit out of you.

...

Another knock.

Fuck.

Gettting up, you stalked slowly to the door, hoping that the intruder to your miserable peace wouldn't hear your approach the door. You wanted to pretend you weren't there, even if it was obvious you were home.

Another knock.

Loud ones. Impatient ones.

"I know you're in there. Listen, I just need to talk to you real quick."

Peeping through the peephole, you saw him - Jouno, who was clad in a dandelion bedhead and grey sweatpants. His hoodie was a strange faded color, and you were sure it was old enough to be his father's.

Taking a moment, you breathed as you watched him. It was hard to believe he was standing there, actually at the front of your door.

At like what, two in the morning?

You opened the door a little bit, feeling the cold night air breeze by. It made you pull yourself closer together, as the shirt you wore barely covered you enough to protect you from the cold.

Thank god Jouno was blind at least. He would see a lot more than he bargained for, you imagined.

"...What do you want?" You wished you could have your voice sound firm, like an interrogator. But you could still hear the tears in your voice, and it made you want to hide in your bed like a mole dug into the dirt.

You sounded so lame.

"Listen. Let me in, real quick."

He was smiling, the same one that you saw when you first met him. Like a fucking customer service representative, trying to sell you something. At two in the morning.

"I'm not a booty call."

"No, what? Just let me inside-" You started to close the door, not caring for the force you used. He could handle it.

"Bring me flowers if you want to ask me for anything next time."

Jouno fought back easily, but was polite enough to stay between the door and the entryway. He only kept half of his body there to maintain conversation, allowing you the ability to slam the door on him if you so wished.

It was tempting, at that moment.

"I need you to listen. This isn't sex or anything."

"Can't you say it in the morning? Some people sleep."

That was a lie, but you weren't in the right mind to speak to him at that moment. He made you emotional - maybe his whole existence was making you feel too much, but that was likely heightened by the fact that you hadn't slept well for the last few nights.

"That's exactly it! You aren't sleeping. Now I can't sleep. So let me in, because I want to go to sleep-"

He pushed through your hold of the door. He had both let himself in, and you had let him.

"You're so selfish."

For some stupid reason, you had let him into your home and had already started to cry again. It had taken so long to calm down, and now you were starting the process all over again.

God, you were really starting to hate your soulmate for doing this to you.

"What? What's selfish about that?"

"You came here just so you could sleep. Why don't you figure out a way to go to sleep on your own!"

The words were spilling out of your mouth, and frankly whatever you said was not even registering in your brain.

All you knew was that you were feeling a lot at the moment. You hadn't felt like this since you were twelve and had the big mark show up on your back, making you mad for weeks.

Maybe you were still mad. And you were remembering it all just now.

Or maybe you were just really tired.

"I did try! I took enough melatonin to kill a man, but you won't let me sleep with your stupid nightmares!"

The man in front of you looked stressed, and you wanted to feel bad. But at the moment, your mind could only think of the worst words to say to him, to twist anything to try and hurt him.

You took a breath. A deep one, feeling how you were choking your brain from oxygen.

Why were you screaming at each other at two in the morning?

"Listen. I know PTSD is stressful, but you can find a way to cope with it, can't you?"

Jouno put his hands on your shoulders. He stepped into your space, and he was so close you could smell the coffee on his breath.

Maybe it wasn't you, but the caffeine he was drinking so goddamn late into the night.

"I don't have PTSD. I've never been to war."

"Then what is this then." He shook you, as if you were the stupid one here, despite walking over to someone's home in the middle of the night.

"Just something I need to get over."

That's something you had always been told. And you were sure it was something that would go away. Eventually.

"See. This is the problem. You don't even know how to deal with the problem you have. And now, I can't sleep."

The man didn't give you a chance to argue back. Before you could say anything, he hauled you onto his shoulder, his hand traveling along your back.

Desperately, you grabbed at his sweatshirt, pulling at the fabric and praying you wouldn't fall onto your face.

"Where's your bedroom? You're sleeping whether you want to or not."

Without caring to listen, he attempted to navigate your home anyway. It was a little entertaining, feeling how he turned his body in circles as he tried to figure out where to go.

"That's the wrong way. It's the other way. On the left."

You pitied him. If only a little bit.

-

"Is sleeping really that hard for you?"

Your bed wasn't small, but Jouno made it feel small with just his presence alone. His body was warmer than yours, and you could feel the heat radiating off of him as you laid side by side, with a few fingers space between each other.

Now that you had though about it, you never had really made space for another person in your bed before. There really was only enough space for you.

"I have a strange man in my bed, can you blame me?"

"I'm your soulmate, I'm not just anyone."

Now he wanted to be something. When he wanted it to benefit him.

Maybe you were deeply bitter about the way he rejected ever wanting to be anything at all.

"You really are selfish, you know? You said you didn't want this to be a thing, but now you're going on about being my soulmate."

Because that meant something. It meant having an actual bond, a sort of relationship. This wasn't anything - at most, you had vague conversations, and now he was just a man in your bed who was upset at you for a stupid reason.

And you were mad at him. And you hoped he knew that.

"I wouldn't do this if I couldn't sleep. We're just...people who need each other."

His voice sounded off. As off as you could tell, as if he was lying, even to himself.

Why did he say these things if even he didn't believe them?

"Do I really need you?" You said the words only loud enough that the pillow could hear you, hoping that he had finally managed to go to sleep, or thought that you had.

But you felt him turn around, bouncing the bed and pulling at the blanket the two of you shared.

Of course he heard it somehow. What a freak.

"Clearly! You couldn't even save yourself. You're lucky I was there."

He was closer now, his voice nearly kissing your ears. You groaned, his volume too loud for your wallowing.

"That's your job, isn't it? To save people?"

Waving him off, you didn't bother to face him - like it would matter, when he couldn't even see you. Instead, you hugged the pillow in front of you closer, feeling how the cold fabric kissing your exposed skin.

It was rather cold for the summertime.

"...I didn't want to know you more, because I didn't want you to be hurt."

His breath tickled your neck, and somewhere along the bed you could feel his fingers dance along the fabric, far too close to your shoulders.

You didn't know him too well, but his touch didn't bother you as much as you wanted to pretend it did.

"How were you going to hurt me?"

"My job. I'm going to die, eventually. It'll be a miracle if I reach 40."

His voice was gentle, without the tone of an insurance agent. He sounded honest; speaking as if he really meant what he said.

It left you breathless, and you had to remind yourself that you needed to breathe in order to live.

"That doesn't mean anything. I would still like to know you when you're here."

There was a laugh behind you, a tired one. Maybe he was only saying these things because he was also exhausted.

A lack of sleep was worse than drugs, you had once heard before.

You couldn't even open your eyes anymore at this point. It was just your mind fighting you.

"That would be nice. But I'm not the best person, I would just make your life miserable. You're right, I am really selfish."

"I know. But I think you're worth it Jouno."

-

After that night, something felt different. Your body felt different.

For one thing, you now had Jouno's phone number. He had texted you, and told you to call him in case of emergencies only.

You had learned that meant when you couldn't couldn't sleep, he really couldn't sleep. And when you couldn't eat, he couldn't eat. and it was an emergency.

Maybe because he was blind, his soulbond appeared differently. It wasn't visual at all, but instead tormented him with your own physical sensations.

It had you wondering if he had ever felt your pain. Or felt anything else you felt.

It wasn't a conversation you were willing to have just yet. You had just started to feel comfortable texting and calling him.

Having him sleep in the same bed was as far as you two had gone, and it had only happened a few times after. He had shared meals with you as well, after you lost your appetite from a bad stomach bug.

It was a strange relationship you had formed. You weren't sure if you were ever going to get closer than you were.

Maybe you were ok with knowing him like this. Like a strange acquaintance, learning weird bits and pieces about him, with unanswered questions that you were too scared to ask.

He was your soulmate. Maybe he didn't need to be anything more than that.

-

"You know, because of you, I can't really go out shirtless anymore."

Jouno was relaxed against the table, bored as he played around with the food on his plate. Recently he wasn't able to each much at all, and you had stayed over for the last while.

But it didn't seem to have much to do with you. Right now you were stuffed, and it seemed like it was all on Jouno at the moment. He had only eaten a quarter of his plate, and you had considered feeding it to him like a child so he would eat more of it.

"Why?"

"Because. You put this on my chest."

Jouno leaned up from the table and forgot his food; taking off his cotton T-shirt, revealing what you had always believed would be there.

Two lines, right by a little ugly scar - "Stay safe, I love you."

They were a little close together, not a work of art by any means. Your handwriting on someone's skin looked...funny. Almost unreal. It looked blotched out, and it reminded you too well of how stupid you were as a teenager, tracing over the Sharpie over and over again, hoping your blind soulmate would see it.

"You're mad about it?"

"It looks like a shitty tattoo."

That was your one mark on him forever. And he called it a shitty tattoo. It wasn't like the stupid daily quotes and one-liners, it was forever.

God forbid you care about someone.

"...I thought you got stabbed." You didn't really see the point in getting hurt by what he said in anymore. This was just how Jouno was.

"Did you feel it?"

"Don't get excited! No! Weirdo!"

You kicked him from underneath the table, easily kicking at his long calves as they stuck out towards your space. Always your space, because he was a tall freak who loved to walk into the space of others, and yours was his favorite.

The man in front of you only giggled, playing footsie with his too-cold feet.

"I see it. Every time you get hurt, it shows up on my skin. You don't really give me pictures or colors. Sometimes I see sentences, but it's not enough. But I always know when you get hurt."

Which was true. You didn't have his scars, but you knew when they hurt. Because the little lines showed up.

"Not enough? Do you like hearing about my day?"

The man's voice sounded ecstatic, smiling as he trapped your feet between his own, almost in a handshake. Maybe he was playing with you, trying to flirt when he didn't mean it at all.

"I like it when you say positive things. It's not really common, you usually are threatening to kill people. It gets boring after a while."

You let him win, instead choosing to take a bite out of his uneaten food. It was right there, and you might as well take your chance, right?

"Well it did help me find you, didn't it?"

"I guess. Yeah."

You tried to take another bite, but the daisy-haired man took you hand and led the fork straight to his mouth. Part of you wanted to kill him, if it wasn't his food you were stealing from.

Maybe you actually cared about him, despite how weird he was.

"Can I ask you something?"

Jouno nodded, starting to eat now knowing that you were willing to take from his plate. Watching him was funny - trying to be as unmessy as he could, while smearing half of his face in sauce.

It was a little cute, seeing him struggle each time.

"Since I was twelve, there's this...mark, on my back. It's not really something you can see, but something you can more feel. It should be related to you, since no doctor has had an explanation for it."

Saying that was strange. The culprit was right in front of you, and now you were asking him politely, despite him being a man who broke into your home at least three times now.

"What do you think it is?" He spoke with his mouthful and no table manners, and at this rate you would rather have him eat with his hands.

"I don't know! Some fucked up masterpiece by a blind asshole I'm attached to for life. If you're an artist, I'm smacking the shit out of you."

You were starting to remember that promise when you were twelve. It really irked you that you hadn't kept to it yet.

"What? Why?"

"Because it's annoying."

Since it showed up, it ruined a lot of things for you - your expectations of your relationship, your fantasies, your dreams. It was really a bad premonition, because Jouno was just like that mark - fucking impossible to understand. And stuck to you for life.

"I can't believe you think the mark that signifies me, and our bond, is annoying. Wow, you hate me."

"You called mine a shitty tattoo!"

He stopped chewing like a marmot, going back slowly as he registered your words.

"...Okay. And?"

"Whatever. But you should get it." At the very least, if he was going to be a thorn in your side forever, he was going to be a useful one, and solve this for you.

"Why would I?"

"Don't play coy with me! That's how soulmates work! Didn't anyone tell you anything!"

"No not really. I honestly figured I would die before I met you, so I never cared."

He said this normally, as if he had said it before. It was just more dinner talk to him, as he chewed senselessly on his salad.

"...what?"

"I just never thought it would matter. I didn't think we would even meet, and I never thought about what would happen next. I don't think it's that big of a deal, really."

The world turned silent to you, as you heard him say that.

I never cared. I don't think its that big of a deal.

Then what were you doing here?

-

You never got your answer for that mark.

Stupid Jouno had disappeared to East Europe for the last two weeks, and you haven't heard back from him. Maybe you didn't want to.

He never cared.

You had spent years, before even knowing him, caring about what he would be like. You cared when he got stabbed, and you cared even when he rejected you.

But he never cared at all.

Did he never think about you? Not when you had broken your wrist? He felt your pain, didn't he feel that?

When you went to work today, you thought about getting hit by a car and seeing if he would call. Just to know if you were okay.

But that was selfish. He was probably busy, and making someone else feel the pain of getting hit by a car was more than a dick move.

You also needed that money from your job. They paid your rent, not your soulmate. That would stay a fantasy, and a dead one; where you and Jouno could function like a normal couple, and live together and maybe even get married.

If he was just a normal man. Who didn't say stupid things and hurt your feelings that you hated you had.

It was ruining the makeup that you spent hours on this morning.

-

"Hey."

"...It's been two months, and that's all you have to say? Hey?"

You had been ready to receive the news that he had died while he was there. Or at least see it on TV. He was practically MIA with the other Hunting Dogs, and no one in the government knew what the hell was going on.

"Listen. It's been a rough two months. When I come back, I want to see you. First thing.

"The hell am I to you? A dog? Should I come back with the morning newspaper?"

"I didn't realize you came with perks." He sounded exhausted over the phone, but his laugh was still the same. It managed to annoy you as well, even after not hearing it for two months.

"Go fuck yourself!"

"...Are you mad at me?"

Yes. You honestly had been mad at him since you knew him, but that wasn't something you wanted to admit to yet.

"No. You just caught me at a bad time."

"Just be at my apartment, alright? And wear that short dress with the strings. Or nothing at all."

"Is this a bootycall?"

"I call you for more things than that."

What an asshole. Jouno was supposed to be a logical man, but he had no clue how to navigate a human relationship it seemed. It was as if he was stepping on seashells every time, and you had to watch them crumble underneath his stupid boots.

He is horrible at navigating anyone's emotions. He only seemed to be able to hurt them.

You tried to keep your voice calm, despite the fact you wanted to cry. Part of you was proud that only your eyes were wet, knowing that Jouno wouldn't know how much he bothered you with his stupidity.

"We aren't anything. This is something."

"...Can we be something? I miss you."

He was almost whimpering over the receiver, and you hoped that someone on the other end could record what he looked like. Because he must have looked funny, begging and pleading like a dog.

"I'm expecting flowers. Or chocolate."

"You like dark, right? You have horrible tastebuds."

"Says the idiot who drinks more milk than coffee." He really should just add an espresso shot to his glass of milk, it was disgusting how much he added and then claimed he loved caffeine.

"Okay. Whatever. Love you."

God, what the hell was wrong with Jouno?

-

"The mark on your back."

Jouno's hand trailed up your spine, his fingers dancing along the little lines that made up the mark, as if reading it like a page in a book.

It felt good.

"Yeah?"

"It's a map." His lips were right above your ear, and you could feel how his breath fanned across your face. This man had no sense of personal space around you.

"Okay. And of what?"

"It's a map of my childhood home. I haven't been there in years. I don't know why it's on your back."

His fingers went lower, to the little part that was raised more than the rest. It looked like a mole, although the skin around it gave the impression of a faded scar, from what you had been told.

"How do you know it's a map?"

"I memorize everywhere I've been."

"And you know just by feeling it?" His hand splayed out against your back, making you feel small. Jouno's hands were not as soft as voice, and you could feel the work he put in them as his callouses brushed against your skin.

"I've never felt it before. But I know. It's strange that it's on your body."

"Well, it means something. It's been there since forever."

Over a decade now. It had taunted you for over a decade.

"...I haven't been there in a long time."

The man plopped his body down next to you, drapping half of himself on top of you. He was heavy, and his face was nearly smushed against your own as he lay there, as if he were a weighted blanket and not a man.

"You know there's another half of the bed, right? You own a king-sized mattress."

And silk sheets, that smelt really good.

He could roll over and still have space to spread out. There was no reason for him to treat your space like it was his own.

"You smell good." To exaggerate, he grabbed the back of your head and pulled you closer, smelling your neck and ear as if you were a living room candle.

You tried to push him away, laughing as he stuck his nose in the one ticklish spot along your neck, but it was hard to fight in the position you were in. Pulling against his hair and kicking against him was futile as he pulled you in closer, grabbing you two into a hold as he decided that your sweaty body was the best thing he had smelled since soap had been invented.

"Freak!" It was hard to stay serious as his arm danced along your sides, having you choke on the word as it sputtered out in laughter.

Jouno only laughed at your struggles. Because of course they were funny to a sadist like him.

-

"I um. I got you flowers."

Jouno looked funny when he tried to be anything other than a soldier or an asshole.

He dressed up - and not to beat a man to death, but because he was seeing you. On a date.

The first one since you had actually known each other. It was such a mundane thing, but it felt like you were seeing a wild animal playing dress up. His hair was done as nice as it usually was, and he was dressed in an outfit that you could picture him wearing to an event - he looked like he didn't have a criminal record.

The flowers added to it, bouncing from in front of him and between his side, as if he had never given a woman flowers in his life before.

His smile said otherwise, which couldn't help but make you laugh inside.

"For?"

"To apologize." He decided to push them into your hands, grabbing them around the stems and making sure you weren't going to drop them to the floor.

You would never do that. They smelled too nice.

"Why are you apologizing?"

"There's a lot of times I've made you cry. Usually, you apologize for that." His voice was low, as he fixed the bouquet he couldn't see. His hands were nervously looking for things to pick at, as if they had eyes of their own and could fix the world one little detail at a time.

His face stayed frozen in his stupid little smile.

"Well, it's not like I'm upset about it now."

"Can't you just accept some flowers?"

His hands decided to fix your hair, brushing down flyaways that didn't exist. If you stared only at his smile, you would think he was as calm as a still pond.

"...They're nice." They were your favorites. They matched what your childhood self had pictured for her stupid little wedding day. One you had given up on, but still wanted to believe in.

Maybe still did, in some way.

Jouno wasn't exactly what you pictured - he looked more like a fox than a handsome prince, and the way he smelled your head right now was more weird than romantic, but you were willing to take it.

He might have been your handsome prince.

"So is there a date planned? Or are we just standing in a park?"

"Why do you always question me?"

"You don't really know what you're doing."

Jouno was a brilliant man in a lot of things. But god he could not make up his mind when it came to you and what he wanted out of this.

Was this really that hard?

"You've seen me at work."

"Okay? Are we going to kill bank robbers or something? Is that our first date?"

The man most certainly had his gun on him, which confused you, because you knew that he hated using it more than any other weapon he owned. But yet you were sure that tucked away in his Chelsea boots was his little handgun, that he would pull out in a moment's notice.

Maybe he had one tucked away in his pants somewhere. He didn't seem to bring his sword, which is the only weapon he hadn't complained about to you yet.

"...It's the boring romance stuff. You like that."

"It's not boring-"

"I've seen your movies. It's boring."

He rolled his shoulders back, scanning the park as his earring danced against his neck.

"And what do you want to do?"

"I don't know. Never really thought about it." His hands started to dance along your jacket, pulling against the lapels as if there was lint that he could actually see.

"Maybe you actually like the boring stuff, and just don't know it."

You started to ignore him, instead deigning to walk ahead of him with the bouquet he gave you.

Were you going to carry this the entire time?

"A walk in the park? You think that's fun?" He only took two big steps to catch up to you, and you dared to kick at him. You didn't care if you were trying to trip a blind man - Jouno wasn't a regular blind man, and he would probably throw you both into the grass eventually after one of you said something stupid.

"It's fun when it's with people you love."

Taking the bouquet, you gently slapped him with it. The daisy-haired man snorted back.

This is close enough to what you wanted.

Hey guys ignore the fact that I originally uploaded this half unfinished yesterday! This is for my Valentine's day event, so go check that out lol. Also sorry that its. So long.

[turtletaubwrites]

Numbers Game ~ Chapter 40

One More Chance

Pairings: Cross Guild Polycule x Shanks x Fem!Reader x ???

Numbers Game Masterlist

Word Count: 12.7k+

Ao3 Link

Ongoing Series Playlist: Youtube Music Link | Youtube Link

Chapter Tunes: Run Rabbit ~ ALT BLK ERA | Broken (feat. Amy Lee) ~ Seether

Summary: The Hunt is nearing its end, but it's still too early to tell who your favorite is. At least not before that red-haired Hunter claims the final date tonight.

Ch. 39 Recap: Detailed recap is directly below the cut!

Author's Note: This one is big, and not just the wordcount. I hope you enjoy the ride! 🥰

Dark Content Warning: No bracketed scenes, but brace yourself for Uncle Cedrick and some Sylvad family bullshit. And ya know... the feels, as usual 💜

Also, I hope everyone remembers the tag/warning: Cross Guild Boys are VILLAINS. It’s been there since day one, so 🤷‍♀️

Extra Tags/Warnings:

Alternate POV Symbols:

🌲 ~ Reader | 🐊 ~ Crocodile | 🗡 ~ Mihawk | 🤡 ~ Buggy | 🔴 ~ Shanks | 🐈 ~ Kat |⏰ ~ Flashbacks for listed POV | ⚫ ~ Scenes depicting Dark Content as listed in Author's Notes

!!! SPOILER WARNING !!! This fic (And This Chapter in Particular!) contains spoilers for current One Piece plotlines!!! Sorry y'all, I've been trying to keep most spoilers small or vague details, but Cross Guild is endgame, lol.

Rating/Warnings: Author May Choose to Exclude some Warnings to Avoid Spoilers for Certain Chapters, Explicit Sexual Content, 18+ ONLY, MDNI, AFAB!Reader, She/Her Pronouns for Reader, Reader-Insert, Use of Y/N, Dark Content, Blood & Violence, PTSD, Panic Attacks, Dissociation, Mental Illness, Grief, Hospitals, Doctors, Mental Health Treatment, Toxic Family, Childhood Trauma, Swearing, Alcohol, Cigars, Smut, Fluff, Angst, Guilt, Drama, Jealousy, Manipulation, Pet Names, Power Imbalance, Cross Guild boys are VILLAINS, Possessive Behavior, Teasing, Threats, Relationship Drama, Inappropriate Use of Akuma no Mi | Devil Fruit Powers, Shameless Shameless Smut, Uncle Cedrick Has Become His Own Warning, Death of an Unnamed Character, Other Additional Tags to Be Added

| masterlist | about me | rules | ao3 |

Ch. 39 Recap:

Reader had to say goodbye to the man of her dreams on Uncle Cedrick's orders. He claimed that he was being generous, but that Iceburg didn't have anything they couldn't buy.

Crocodile tried to find anything useful in the recordings of his sweet girl at the asylum, but all he saw was that fifteen year old girl breaking, and that doctor praising her for admitting what she was: a monster.

Kat struggled to pretend while her sister had to keep smiling at the villainous Vinsmokes.

Mihawk found purpose again, a feeling he'd forgotten. He kept up his hunt through the seedy underworld, following the trail of greed while he left a trail of blood behind him.

Reader managed to relax and enjoy the second date with Katakuri. That Sweet Commander was too sweet, but Reader still couldn't make any promises.

Shanks felt desperate as his failures kept growing, until he finally hit his mark. He had sworn to become a villain to save Buggy's star, yet he would have preferred violence over the threats he made against Katakuri's little sister.

Reader managed to avoid being alone with Yonji during his second date, at the cost of his soldier's pain while he beat them bloody. She praised him, and managed to pretend during the breakfast the next morning. Neither Kat nor Reiju had joined them for breakfast, and the thought of her sister being happy helped Reader keep up her smile.

Now, the Hunt is nearing its end. The wedding will be in two days, but first Reader must face the final date, and the red-haired traitor that wants to claim her for himself.

One More Chance

~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~

Run, little rabbit. Please, run away.

This island was lush, abundant, a thing of true beauty.

Yet the sight of that wild rabbit hopping through the courtyard made you want to scream. If only you could move, you would run to it, protect it from the hunters and their hungry arrows, their greedy fingers, their gluttonous mouths.

That little bunny never stood a chance.

Uncle Cedrick had already snapped his fingers for his bow, all eyes on him while he aimed for the helpless creature that was stupid and unlucky enough to interrupt him.

Looking away didn’t save you from the little horror. The image of the rabbit’s extravagant death was spread too large across the screens, and your cowardly move to look away only trapped you more.

A hunter’s eyes tore through you, and you choked down stupid hope that you might survive longer than the creature that was bleeding its life away onto the pretty cobblestones while leeches and wolves applauded its dying breaths.

Those soft, brown eyes were arrows, and you knew that you were nothing to that greedy hunter but something to capture, to claim.

You were nothing but a little bunny to him, and tonight it was his turn to win you. To claim you.

His lips curled just slightly, a wicked little smirk that would have made your skin crawl if you hadn’t been holding in every piece of yourself that you could.

The screen behind that red-haired hunter showed a servant lifting that prize into the air, blood staining all that pure, white fur.

You returned Shanks’ smile, hoping that your death would be as quick as that little bunny’s if he was the one that caught you.

Hoping you would feel his blood on your hands first.

~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🔴🔴🔴~~~

The Great Red Haired Shanks was drowning. He couldn’t fucking hear a thing, could hardly breathe unless he could watch the rise and fall of her breath, nearly bolting across the courtyard whenever she’d hold it in for too long.

Her eyes caught his, and cruel hope filled him.

Shanks smiled at that wounded star, aching for tonight.

I just need one more chance.

Y/N’s smile was perfect. So very sweet that the leeches around him began to swoon over the berries they’d bet on him winning the lovely heiress.

Her smile was anything but sweet. That charming pirate had seen behind the mask, catching just a flash of hate shining through every glance she sent his way.

I’m gonna save you, Y/N. I promise.

“Sorry about the mess,” Cedrick bragged while he drew everyone’s attention back to himself and his twisted, little game. “I know you all have been dying to hear from our lovebirds after that delightfully savage tournament last night—”

“My apologies for the interruption…”

Cedrick managed to rein himself in, but Shanks caught that flash of rage in his eyes when the towering hunter cut him off. He didn’t seem to be as good at pretending as Y/N, at least not when someone else was hogging all the attention.

“But of course, Katakuri,” Sylvad bowed his head just a fraction while the hunter kneeled before the little stage he shared with his niece. “You’re well known for your impeccable manners, so I imagine it must be important.”

“It is.”

Shanks didn’t want to watch this. He’d already downed the sparkling wine they’d poured into another carved glass for him this morning, so there was nothing to help him swallow his shame.

He had promised to become a villain for her. It was for her. For Buggy. For Mihawk.

He had to save her.

But that wounded star had stopped breathing again while she waited for that sweet commander to speak.

Was it really for her?

She still wasn’t breathing.

It wasn’t for her, was it? I came here for Buggy. For Mihawk. I came here to soothe my own fucking guilt.

No. I came here to use her again. To get what I want.

Shanks wasn’t good at pretending, unless his own delusions counted. He had truly believed that he was a good man.

What kind of man believes he’s good? Believes he’s better than others because he does what’s right? What he decides is right?

Who the fuck am I to decide what’s right?

Even with waves of self-loathing and guilt crushing his greedy heart, that Emperor of the Sea couldn’t stop.

He just held his own breath until she stopped holding hers.

~~~🔴🔴🔴~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~

Of course. Of course, your last hope was kneeling before you. It felt like the cruel twist of a knife that you could tell he wasn’t smiling beneath those feathers. You were a fucking idiot for getting attached, for getting to know this lovely dream too well before it ended.

Katakuri’s deep voice barely reached you, hitting just enough to confirm what you already knew.

It’s over.

“I am so sorry, Y/N,” that voice failed to soothe. “I want to stay with you, to take you with me, but my family needs me now. I must protect them. I’m sorry—”

“I understand,” some alien part of you spoke. Leeches made noises over your sweetness, but you weren’t sweet. You were empty. A doll with nothing inside. “Thank you, Katakuri. I hope your family is safe.”

Those crimson eyes saw you too deep and you needed to scream. The need was so intense, it felt like the screams were tearing you apart. So close to falling to your knees,

Leave. Just leave. Go away. Please!

Family. What a fucking joke.

Fuck. Now you were about to start laughing. This was not good.

Katakuri had moved slightly, but he tilted his head while he studied you. He seemed to pull his hand away before he’d reached for you, and you were grateful when he left without another word.

There were so many words around you now. So many sticky, pointless words, some of them from your own lips.

You were hardly there while you made it through the interview with Yonji, hardly there while you praised that rabid, little puppy dog whose hands pulled you too close. Like you were his favorite chew toy.

A flash of red caught your eye, but you couldn’t look at that other hunter while you praised the one beside you on the stupid, green couch he’d brought with him.

Numbers. Counting. Math. That would help you get through this.

Three minus one is two.

Two minus one is...

One hunter would leave you drugged and strapped to another table, only this time you’d be dissected, violated, forced to birth monsters until you died.

The other hunter made you sick with hate, with disgust. The traitor that broke Buggy’s heart, that used you to steal him away, only to abandon him again. A dangerous man, a monster. Just a fucking leech that couldn’t get what he wanted from your dead father, so now he would hurt anyone in his path to tear it from your flesh.

A hunter claiming his prey, with not a thought for the pain the rabbit must feel while its heart’s blood spilled at his feet.

Either choice meant death.

Pros and cons.

You weren’t naive enough to think that you had a real chance at killing an Emperor of the Sea. Even if you did, you’d be trapped on a ship full of terrifying pirates that he’d threatened to punish you with the first night you met.

Both options were torture, but red grew in your mind. It spread, slow and thick like the blood of the man that was killed just for insulting you.

Shanks had hurt Buggy. He would hurt him again if he got the chance.

I’ll kill him for Buggy. At least I can do something for him before it’s over. If I can kill him, then everything else is fine.

But you couldn’t kill him tonight. Tonight, you would pretend, you’d please the monster, so he’d steal you for himself. Tonight, you would use him to forget the world.

~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~

~~~~~~

~~~⏰🔴🔴🔴⏰~~~

Red Haired Shanks was always searching. Not for treasure or glory, but for the perfect tavern.

For years, every tavern was fine, filled with bunnies and booze, laughter and ease, but every now and then he’d find what he needed.

“There you are,” Shanks whistled as he raised his mug. “You never know who you’ll run into at a tavern, eh, old friend?”

“We’re not friends, asshole,” Buggy spat, already so flustered and cute when Shanks leaned against his shoulder at the sticky bar top before he leaned away. “We’re enemies.”

“Come on, Bugs, it’s been a couple of years since last time, hasn’t it,” the redhead coaxed. It felt as though the world was falling away, nothing but that lovely clown and the unacceptable space between them. “At least let me buy you a drink. Something sweet?”

He held in his laugh at the way Buggy frowned, the way everything about him was so bright, so vivid. Shanks studied every movement until he saw the shift in those crystal eyes, and he couldn’t help but scrape his bottom lip through his teeth at the feeling of victory it gave him.

“Ugh, fine! But only because you owe me,” the clown sighed, his skin a bit flushed beneath his greasepaint while he downed his drink.

“Lead the way then, old friend,” Shanks purred. His body was tingling when he gestured toward the nearly empty tables in this shitty, wonderful tavern. Finally, the world felt right again.

~~~⏰🔴🔴🔴⏰~~~

~~~~~~

~~~⏰🌲🌲🌲⏰~~~

“Just follow me, star,” Buggy soothed your panicked breaths. “You know your captain will catch you, don’t you?”

“Yes, Captain, it’s just—oh gods!”

You were too breathless to pout at his smug laughter while you clung to him, the only anchor within reach. Buggy had guided your steps, holding your hands while he floated beside you, but you’d barely moved across the tightrope before slipping off, and into his waiting arms.

“Come on, I’m not about to let my flashy financial advisor go splat,” he teased, and you couldn’t hold in your squeal while he floated you in circles toward the ceiling of one of the many true circus tents in Buggy Town.

“Financial advisor’s usually work at a desk, you know,” you pleaded, closing your eyes against the striped tent that spun around and around, faster and faster. “On the ground!”

“Where’s the fun in that?”

The heat and danger in your clown’s voice sent your thoughts away. No frustration, no fear, just Buggy. Right here, right now.

“My pretty star shouldn’t be stuck on the ground,” he taunted while he floated even higher. “Will you shine up here with me, baby? I won’t let you fall too far.”

“I know, Buggy,” you managed to gasp while he tossed you just enough to shift your position in his arms. He stopped spinning to let you cling to him, wrapping your legs around his waist while you tried not to look down. “I know you’ll save me.”

Those words felt dangerous, but the look in Buggy’s eyes made everything disappear. His slow, crooked smile sent warmth through your body, even while he spun through the air again.

“Of course I will,” your clown yelled a bit too close to your ear, and you giggled before he kissed the sound away. Buggy ate at your lips, desperate for the taste of you.  His hunger pulled little moans and whines from your lips while he gripped you tighter around his body.

Still hanging on to him with your arms around his neck, you grinded against the hard length of him, always so fucking needy for you.

“Fuck, baby,” he broke the kiss with a groan. Gloved fingers dug into the meat of your ass, until he wrapped one arm around your back to hold you steady, still bobbing too high above the three rings you kept forgetting were there. Until he tugged the glove from his free hand off with his teeth, letting it fall and fall while his bare fingers teased along your thigh. “My girl’s so fucking good for me. Can I—”

“I need you, Buggy.” You had said that the night you met, that truth growing more with every moment that he stole you from the world. “Please—gods, yes!”

He was still floating, still standing in the air while you clung to him, yet Buggy managed to curl his fingers beneath the costume he’d picked for your tight rope act. He pushed that shiny fabric aside before working himself into you while your eyes watered at his wicked praise, his panicked thrusts, his pretty little noises.

You wondered how he got the leverage to fuck you like this, as though he were standing on solid ground while he held you. Then he hit so fucking deep, using the weight of your body to bounce you onto him, and you were too far gone to wonder anything at all.

All you could do was take him, take every delicious feeling he gave you. Still, as terrifying, and thrilling as fucking so high in the air should have been, you couldn’t fight against the dangerous hope that this feeling was real.

It was stupid. Naïve. You had tried again and again to shove it down, to just enjoy it while you could.

Buggy made you feel both safe and free. It couldn’t be real.

Right now is good.

“Gods, star… You feel perfect,” Buggy moaned through stuttering thrusts. “Come for me. Shine for me, baby. Just. Like. That.”

His name from your lips turned to screams while you came together, floating through space like stars in the sky. He couldn’t seem to stop his own pleasure, forcing his come even deeper inside you as though he could carve his own home within your twitching body.

“You don’t want me to stop, huh, dollface? Want me to—

No more dollface. No more Sylvad smiles.

“Hey, Star, what’s wrong,” your clown panicked when you were frozen by those hopeful thoughts. He cursed softly when he pulled himself out of you before racing down too fast. You shut your eyes against the spinning world, surprised by how many tears spilled when they closed.

Buggy caught every tear that fell, and you smiled at him when you felt him making strides across something thicker than air.

“You okay, baby?” Anxiety rippled off him when he laid you on something soft to look you over. “I’m sorry, did I—”

“I’m okay,” you choked out while you touched his hand that cradled your cheek. Relief moved across his features, but not enough. “Thank you, Captain. I’m just happy to be here with you.”

Your clown paused, and his eyes flashed with anger, with disbelief. You hated that look and all the disgusting people that must have trained that reaction into him.  

Then those crystal eyes melted, warmth seeming to fill him to the brim before he squeezed your cheeks.

“Well, I wasn’t about to leave such a flashy girl behind, but if you really feel like thanking your captain, I can think of a few—"

“Buggy!” Laughter spilled from you now, even as you struggled against his grip on your face. Your giggles slowed when he stared at your lips, brushing his thumb across your mouth. The taste of your own tears nearly stopped you, but your sweet, lovely clown kissed you before breathing his next words against your skin.  

“I like the smile better.”

The warm tears that fell now were joined by more laughter, and more dangerous hope, while he kissed your true smile again and again.  

~~~⏰🌲🌲🌲⏰~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~

The dress was pretty.

It felt light and soft against your skin. A comfortable sundress to enjoy a picnic under the stars. Your locket even fit the theme, but you still kept it tucked away when you weren’t fidgeting with it.

Yet, you preferred the other stupid costumes you’d been forced to wear.

“That red looks lovely on you, sweetie,” your mother gave a flawless smile. She leaned against the vanity to beam at you while her stylists finished your hair. While you tried not to bite them.

At least it wasn’t your mom dolling you up today.

Closing your eyes against your mother’s perfect smile, you fought to shove out the image of a broken doll in a red dress.

The trill of a transponder snail tore a gasp from you, and the voice that followed was worse.

“Delaine, be a dear and bring your daughter to my office. I need to check in on our little bride before the final date.”

“Of course, Cedrick,” your mother purred while she gestured for the servants to finish up. “We’ll be right there.”

Delaine Sylvad kept her smile while she led you to him. She gave you to your uncle once again, and she hummed when he brushed his lips against her cheek before she obeyed his order to leave you alone with him.

Your mother left you without a second glance. 

“My, my, Y/N, what a sight you are,” Uncle Cedrick praised. His eyes raked over you as though admiring a prize horse before gesturing toward the beautifully carved, but uncomfortable seat across the desk from his own cushioned chair. “Take a seat, niece. We need to have a little chat.”

Emptiness flooded your mind slowly, fog rolling in until the world felt dull.

Good.

“Enough of that,” he snapped his fingers in front of your face, cutting off your escape. “The Hunt is almost over, niece. I need to know who your favorite is.”

“It’s too early to tell,” you recited. His smug little smirk only proved that your instincts were right.

“Not to worry. I believe I can help with your decision,” your uncle laughed, so at ease.

Uncle Cedrick toyed with a decorative arrow that he’d displayed on his massive desk, and you couldn’t keep your eyes off it while he started tapping the side of it against his palm, gesturing with it while he spoke.

“It really is your choice, Y/N,” he taunted, twirling the arrow a bit before pointing it at you over the desk. Aiming straight for your heart. “Do you remember what your choices were before the Hunt? Did you figure out the pros and cons?”

Nothing matters.

“I can be well.” You only clenched your jaw a bit. “Or I can be unwell. And I want to be well, Uncle.”

“That is all I want, you know,” your uncle lied, his voice dipping low. It might have sounded gentle if you didn’t know what he was. “I only want what’s best for you, and for our family. That’s why I am excited to tell you about a little extra deal I made.”

He wiggled the tip of the arrow in front of your eyes, grinning as though it was all a game. You managed not to flinch, but your eyes closed against your will for a moment to fight against the dizziness the movement had caused. His smile had deepened after your show of weakness.

It is a game. His game.

“Aren’t you going to ask about the deal?”

“What’s your extra deal, Uncle,” you drowned in impotent rage.

He sat back with a laugh, bringing his pristine shoes up to rest on the corner of the desk. You were suddenly aware of the tension in your own body, your legs shaking slightly beneath that red fabric.

You shook more when he ordered the servants and guards from the room before pulling a small snail from his desk. He patted the creature, his fingers grazing the horned shell until its eyes flashed red.

“Well, I might be getting ahead of myself,” Uncle Cedrick tilted his head back and forth while he twirled the arrow in lazy circles. “Tomorrow your Hunters and I will discuss the arrangements. If they don’t agree, then they are out, but if all goes well…”

“Fuck.”

“Do pay attention, dear. You have a date with an Emperor to get to, so I’d hate if I had to repeat myself.”

An apology forced its way through your lips while you watched him sweep all that splintered wood onto the floor. Your uncle caught you slipping away again, so he’d broken that arrow over his desk, startling you back to whatever fresh torment he had in store for you.

“You have your choices,” he started, and his handsome features were finally starting to warp, a hint of the monster that only you could see. No one else saw what he was, or they were just too greedy or scared to admit it. “Now that you’re well, you will fulfill your duties as a Sylvad and marry a suitable match. You get to choose between an Emperor of the Sea, or a Prince of the Germa Kingdom. Such a spoiled, little bride.”

“Yes, Uncle.” Your voice was sweet, and you almost laughed at how skilled you’d become. It would never be enough. “Shouldn’t I be leaving for my date soon?”

“You’re quite right, dear niece,” your uncle agreed. He lowered his legs from the desk, brushing a few splinters from his slacks before smiling at you again.  “Vinsmoke Judge and his partner have some riveting plans for their new research institute. I was considering sending an offer to fund some of their ventures after the Hunt, but they proposed a deal that I just couldn’t refuse.”

You couldn’t count your breaths. There weren’t any while he left you waiting again.

“If you choose to marry the Emperor, then one of the Princes will marry Kathryn instead,” Uncle Cedrick announced, cheerful while you struggled to understand. “Such a fine match, and after all these years of waiting for her selfish sister to stop holding her back…”

“No.”

“Yes,” he mocked your desperate tone.

You were awake now, no drifting away, no escape. Just fear and denial flooding your veins.

“They’ll use her, Uncle. Those princes were born without feelings. They’re vicious!” The monster before you looked pleased while you fought to steady your voice. “You can’t give her to them. You won’t.”

“I can and I will,” Uncle Cedrick seethed, eyes wide with fury as he slammed his fist onto his pretty desk. Just for a moment, he let you see how he truly felt when something in the world dared to displease him.

His show of hatred stilled your breath, but that snarl was followed quickly by his charming, Sylvad smile.

I liked the snarl better.

You had to bite and chew the inside of your lips, sick laughter nearly ruining you again. Your uncle pressed his finger to your lips now, shutting you up.

“Please, mind the hysterics before your date,” he scolded, removing his hand from your skin to pet the horned snail again. Its slow eyes drooped, that red fading out while he studied your face.

Looking for signs of weakness.

His fingers drummed against the gleaming wood of his desk; your eyes caught on the movement. He kept that abhorrent rhythm going until you wanted to claw at him. Finally, he traced those fingers down the side of his desk until he winked in time with a sound like a snap, like something clicking into place. The painting on the wall beside you moved, the little cedar trees opening a window to another room.

An enclosure.

Uncle Cedrick hummed a cheerful tune while he leaned through the window to pet the massive projector snail. Always so many fucking snails. He guided it to aim toward the opposite wall until its eyes cast something you knew you didn’t want to see.

The selfish urge not to look was shattered when you heard her.

“Let me see my sister,” Kat demanded, the words icy with rage. She gritted her teeth, flinching away from the hand that dared to reach for her face.

Your sister wasn’t restrained. She didn’t look hurt.

Kat was sitting between two monsters on a pretty, green couch.

“Don’t worry so much, princess,” Niji purred, thankfully pulling away from her.

“Yeah, the last date is starting soon,” Ichiji soothed, unable to hold in a satisfied laugh. “We can watch your sister all night.”

They weren’t touching her right now, but you were already running toward the door when he cut the feed.

“That’s enough,” your uncle sighed while you struggled with every door out of the massive office. He’d locked you in a cage with him. “You know very well that I am not bluffing. Now, do you understand your choices, or do we need to— “

“You can’t hurt her,” you declared, willing yourself to wake up from this nightmare.

No. No. Not real. Not her.

He just smiled, gently stroking the horned snail until its red eyes glared at you.

“They’re gonna breed her! Torture her! She could die!” There was no change in that charming face. “Please don’t let them hurt her, Uncle. Please, she’s your daughter!”

Words that you’d never spoken hung in the air, and your ears rang with aching silence as though your body had tried to pull them back into you.

If only that ringing silence could have stayed to spare you from his sadistic laughter. He was still cracking up while he relaxed back into his seat, gesturing for you to join him.

“My little smarty. Did you think that was a secret,” Uncle Cedrick mocked while he caught his breath. He dabbed the moisture from his eyes as you slumped into that uncomfortable seat across from him. “I must admit, your mother and I were sloppy at best when it came to hiding our transgressions. Only a fool like my brother could have missed something so glaringly obvious.”

Uncle would have dragged you back anyway, but you fought to stay present. Only your nails on your thighs through that thin, red fabric kept you here.

she needs me

“I’m disappointed in you though, Y/N. I thought you were smart enough to keep your mouth shut.”

“but...”

“But what,” he scoffed as he leaned over the desk to pinch your cheek. You were too lost to even flinch.

“you won’t hurt her you won’t let them—”

There was no fighting it. Your body was starting to carry the inevitable future for you, although your mind was still small. Parts of you had run away, but he didn’t bother to chase them down.

“My daughter has the opportunity to elevate the Sylvad line.”

His voice wasn’t loud, but you winced at the force of it. He leaned back, his pretty shoes on the desk again, but you couldn’t let your eyes wander there. If you looked away from his gratified gaze you would disappear.

You had to stay.

“Finally, I can bring our family the respect, the honor we deserve.”

Uncle Cedrick’s mask fell just enough to show that monstrous hunger. That greed. What do you get for the man that has everything? What more could he possibly be hungry for?

It felt like it had always been you. Your pain, your humiliation, your supplication.

But your suffering was just the bonus prize.

“Arbo never cared about leaving a mark on the world,” your uncle spat now, his revulsion growing with every word. “No ambition. No pride. He rejected every opportunity to lift our family name above the merchant class. No, my idiot brother just wanted to spoil his selfish, little numbers girl.”

“stop”

He would never stop. He kept going, even as your body started rocking back and forth, breaths going heavy and wrong.

“Your daddy was always weak-willed. Pathetic.” Uncle laughed at the tiny sob that escaped your lips, even while you chewed on your flesh to keep them shut. “Arbo’s obsession with you held us all back, Y/N. It even got him killed. That sentimental fool couldn’t even wait a fucking week to fetch his ungrateful brat a toy boat—"

“please”

Broken doll.

Broken sobs tore through you now, and you curled in on yourself. Breathing hurt, you couldn’t see, couldn’t hear over the horrible, broken noises.

nothing now nothing now nothing—

“Stop crying.”

Dolls should be quiet and still, so that’s what you were. Just a doll when he knelt beside you. Not real when he touched your face, sneering at the pathetic tears on your skin.

Uncle Cedrick held his broken doll by the chin, but his words couldn’t hurt something that wasn’t real.

not real

can’t feel

“The choice is yours, dear niece,” came a voice that meant nothing. “Marry a Vinsmoke, or your sister will take your place. If you don’t want the pirate then you know what your options are, but Kathryn will wed one of those princes if you don’t.”

One more burning tear stained your cheek while his fingers pressed just a bit more into your skin, still careful not to tarnish his little doll. Your uncle never needed to use his hands to hurt you. He’d broken you just fine with his words.

Now he had trapped you into this reality, this world that he owned, because you couldn’t let yourself slip into nothingness. You couldn’t be that selfish again.

“I’ll marry Yonji,” you spoke with a voice like your mother’s, “but only if they let Kat go. They can’t touch her.”

Uncle Cedrick patted you on the head when he stood, and you counted your breaths while he picked up his transponder snail from its decorative table. He sat in his comfortable chair, placing the snail he’d dressed to match his own image beside the horned snail that was beginning to slump while its eyes still flashed red.

“Kat will be staying with her future brothers in law until your vows have been sealed,” he declared, the threat sending fresh terror to rip through your heart.

He stroked the horned snail again to let it rest. His fleeting mercy was given only to the toys that bent to his will.

“Don’t fret though, niece. I won’t let my daughter become anyone’s mistress, not even a prince. She’ll never be a cheap whore like your mother. Speaking of,” your uncle trailed off before making a call, your mother’s, ‘hello, Cedrick,’ floating from the snail’s sticky lips. “Delaine, dear, please come tend to your daughter. She could use some freshening up before the big night, and we can’t have her running late.”

You stayed here. Distant, but not empty. Suffocating with a gentle smile while your mother dolled you up.

“Don’t forget the rules of the Hunt, dear niece,” Uncle Cedrick reminded you as he guided you to the courtyard. “Our guests are here to have fun, so be sure to show the Emperor a good time. Can you do that, smarty.”

“Yes, Uncle.”

~~~🌲~~~

There were no stars out yet, but you stared into the golden sky all the same. Your pretty dress and the picnic blanket beneath you did nothing to keep the gentle breeze from sending shivers over your skin.

The theme of this date was crueler than your uncle could have known, but it was your own fault for choosing it from the list. Another opportunity to torture yourself, and now you wallowed in it.

Stargazing.

Waves and waves of grief poured through you while that darkening sky revealed each star like a mirage. Hope had done nothing but torment you, yet you couldn’t wish it away.

You had felt true love before meeting your fate. If your sister was safe, then everything was worth it.

Bargaining with the stars above while distant eyes enjoyed the show was a balancing act. It took all your strength to keep your pitiful cries inside. No matter how many times you tried to push it down, your mind went back. Back to that strange, little island you’d almost called home.

The steadiness you held impressed even you. It almost pushed you into laughter, until guilt finally won out over grief.

Buggy had given you so much. All you’d given him were lies and betrayal. You had abandoned him just like all the rest, and now you couldn’t even die for him. You couldn’t kill the monster that hurt him.

You couldn’t stop your disgusting desire to betray him again.

Pretty, shining stars were dancing above you now, yet you kept your relaxed position, not even digging your nails into your palms. Those stars dug into you instead. They pierced through your sick heart while you tried to soothe your own guilt, and you clung to that beautiful locket while you gave yourself permission to hate yourself even more.

Pretend. That was all. Just one more night to pretend.

One more night to forget the world, even if it meant letting that traitor use you again, for no other reason than to numb your own pain.

Selfish. I never deserved you, Buggy. I wish I could kill him for you, but I… I wish—

A shooting star cleared your mind for one, shining moment.

Why is it so dark?

“Hey there, little bunny. Sorry about the wait,” said a domineering pirate that knocked over the basket of food when he walked across the picnic blanket.

The leeches were loving the chaos, and the growing chill in the air made you aware of how long you must have been lying there. That Emperor of the Sea was late, and he’d left you for the vultures to pick at, squawking with pleasure while you’d been fighting not to cry.

He was still late.

“The chief didn’t feel like stargazing, so we set up his tent for your date instead. Hope you don’t mind.”

That tall gruff man offered his hand, and you were too foggy to resist. A few strands of his long gray hair fell over his eyes while he got you to your feet, but he only shook them aside. He kept his warm hands on you, smirking when he caught your eyes widening at the impressive flex of muscles across his arms and chest.

“The name’s Benn,” he shared with too much heat in his voice. That name spiked your heart rate, even more now as he lifted your chin to meet his gaze, pulling you against him.

Leeches were louder, but there were more voices close by that you couldn’t make sense of yet.

“Don’t be scared,” Benn scolded when you tried to step away. “The crew’s only here to make sure your date doesn’t get interrupted.”

“Yeah, the Captain’s got big plans for you,” shouted a deep voice from behind you. It was too close, and more taunting hollers and whistles followed.

Somehow, humiliation broke through your guilt and grief, and you gave another useless attempt to get out of this man’s reach.

“What do you mean,” you growled, too much rage in your voice.

“That’s a question for Shanks, bunny girl. I’m just the delivery man,” Benn shrugged, his eyes still heavy on your skin. Then the overwhelming pirate threw you over his shoulder and ran, to riotous applause and laughter. The Red Hair Pirates flanked you, teasing and taunting along the way.

Benn moved so fast that you almost missed it while you struggled in his arms. He’d placed one of those muscular hands on your ass, smoothing down the thin, red fabric of the sundress while he charged on. The image of his groping touch was blown up across the screens for all the guests to revel in. They gorged on your humiliation, still cheering and jeering so loudly you could hear them through the forest he’d carried you into.

Maybe I can kill him tonight.

That vengeful thought was doused quickly by the memory of your waiting sister, so you had to swallow it down. Remember your place.

This world belonged to greedy, monstrous men like your uncle, and like this Emperor that had ordered for you to be delivered to him like a meal. The Hunter and the prey whose blood would stain his hands while he feasted on its flesh.

Might as well close your eyes and try to enjoy it. You knew what this hunter could do, and the threat of danger reminded you of how sick you were.

Breaking out of the tree line again, you recognized this rolling set of hills, even though you could only see behind your captor while you bounced over his shoulder.

So many scrapes, bruises, and grass stains had followed you and your sister home from the spot you’d named, “Upside Down Hill.” The two of you would roll down the slope again and again into the basin-like stretch of grass until it was filled with laughter and squeals. It was surrounded by hills, just more piles of dirt, but that dip in the world had always felt a bit special. Magical.

That had to be where you were headed when Benn’s steps tilted down, as though you were descending into the earth itself.

You weren’t.

You were carried like a sack of potatoes through the thick flaps of a tent, the scent of the traitor filling that warm space.

“Package for you, chief,” Benn grunted as he tossed you onto a bed in the center of the large, captain’s tent. If you weren’t too busy catching your breath and trying not to flash him while you sat up, you would have bitten the fingers he ruffled through your hair. “Ooh, look at that fire. You didn’t tell me you caught a bratty, little bunny.”

“Out,” Shanks ordered, and the power behind that single, quiet demand made you freeze like prey, yet again. Your anger meant nothing against such a beast. “Make sure no one’s within earshot. Bunny and I need some privacy tonight.”

“Aye, chief,” Benn submitted as he turned to leave, his job complete. That older, powerful pirate nodded in deference toward the hunter that held your gaze.

Shanks’ eyes weren’t soft. He stared at your heaving chest while he lounged on a pretty, red chair; your body was still frozen except for the desperate breaths that pounded through you. Every instinct told you to run.

Run away.

There was no point in running anymore. Just let the beast devour you one more time. Just stop thinking, just feel something before you married a fate worse than death.

He kept you waiting in silence long enough that you broke loose, aching to feel anything but this. You crawled across the bed toward him, ready to beg. Shanks went to his knees, and you nearly wept with need, but he avoided your greedy hands to pull a small box from under the bed.

“You kept me waiting out in the cold quite a while, Emperor,” you purred, pushing that red fabric higher up your thighs while your fingers traced along the skin. His eyes were frightening now, but you didn’t care. Nothing mattered. “I thought you were going to keep me warm.”

Shanks clenched his jaw as he looked down at the box, setting its contents onto the red chair while he slumped onto the worn rug beside it.

Confusion and terror filled you in equal measure while the traitor patted the little, horned snail.

A jamming snail.

What more was this monster planning to do to you that he’d need this much privacy? Surely, he’d save any real punishments for after he owned you. The presence of his crew in the surrounding hills made your mouth dry, but the memory of his manic eyes while he’d played with you didn’t fit with whatever was on his face now.

“Shanks,” you muttered helplessly while the snail’s eyes turned red.

The Hunter crawled to you, sitting on the floor at your feet while he took your hand in his.

“Stop.” The plea was useless when it left your lips. You didn’t know where it came from, only that those brown eyes looked soft again. Too soft.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N,” the leech lied too fucking well. “I’m sorry for everything. Please, believe me. I came here to bring you back to Buggy. He’s waiting for his star.”

~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🔴🔴🔴~~~

“Fuck you!”

“Bunny, I…” Shanks was pathetic again, useless against this woman’s rage. Y/N had ripped her hand from his grasp to crawl off the bed until it was between them while she paced. She kept glancing at him and forcing her eyes away, as though the sight of him made her sick.

Maybe it did.

“Really,” she spat, near manic while her hands clawed into the air as she spoke. “Winning isn’t enough for ‘The Great Red Haired Shanks?’ You have to fucking torture me too?”

“It’s the truth, bunny—Y/N,” Shanks nearly whimpered as he crawled around the bed, careful not to spook her as he drew closer. He had to keep crawling while she tried to keep the bed between them, disgust in every frantic movement. “I promise, if you marry me, I’ll take you home to Buggy. Home to the Cross Guild. I’ll do anything, please, believe me!”

That wasn’t… I didn’t.

There was no way that his last, desperate words had been a command. He could never do that to an innocent. Never to someone he cared about, someone so sweet.

The Emperor of the Sea was choking now, the air in that little tent burning into an anger so vicious that he winced, almost shielding his face from the blast of it.

How can she carry all this inside her, he wondered, cowering yet again.

“Believe you,” Y/N mocked while waves of cruelty suffocated him. “Even if I believed you, I know what you are.”

She’d seen through him from the start.

“You think I’d think better of you for using me to get to Buggy,” Y/N challenged, gritting her teeth while she leaned over his slumped form. “I think I’d prefer it if you used me for berry, or to destroy a Jewel Tree for your magic fucking boat. Knowing you, you’ll try to do it all, won’t you? The Emperor wants EVERYTHING!”

Buggy’s star was shining with white, hot rage, stunning the greedy Emperor at her feet. She was so good at hiding, so very good at pretending. Yet, Shanks was awestruck at the sheer weight of hatred she could hide inside that precious body.

“Out,” Shanks ordered again, feeling his first mate’s concern before the man stepped too far into this storm of murderous wrath.

“Chief,” Benn checked in through the flap of the tent. Y/N’s eyes went wide with fear and fury at the sound of his voice before turning that malicious gaze back onto the trash at her feet.

“Get out,” Shanks commanded, the flavor of domination too familiar. Too easy.

He held his breath to brace for her fear, but Y/N just slumped onto the bed, her body loose while her head lolled to the side to meet his gaze. The tent was still thick with her emotions, but they seemed to slow. Less heat, but a feeling of sickness grew, nausea pouring through him.

The sight of exhausted tears in her eyes made him unable to tell which one of them those feelings belonged to.

“Why don’t you get out, Shanks? I know you don’t want me. I’m just in the way.”

“Shh, bunny. Don’t say that, please.” He almost touched her hand again, catching himself before another wave crashed down.

A wave of madness, of cruel laughter that ripped his worthless heart to shreds. She writhed on the bed, mocking and taunting, spitting words like acid to sear his flesh until nothing but bones and burning truths remained.

“You want me to be quiet so you can pretend I’m not there? You can fetch Buggy his star and sail away together on your magic boat. I’ll just sit in the corner so you can have everything you fucking want.”

“No, please—”

Shanks couldn’t think. It felt as though he’d lived too long without shame, and now an ocean of it was being forced down his throat.

He couldn’t breathe while that wounded star sneered at him.

“Don’t you fucking dare tell me, ‘no.’ I watched you. You took him from me, even when we were—I know I had no right to feel that way after everything but…” Y/N pulled him close, dragging him by the collar of his cloak while her voice cracked with pain. So sharp and jagged, Shanks could feel it in his own body, deeper than all the rest.

He’d caused so much pain.

“You made Buggy forget about me,” she sobbed, anger still present in the air like a weapon within reach. “You pretended I didn’t exist, but I forgave you. I told you to fucking take him, Shanks! You promised me!”

“Y/N—hey? Bunny,” Shanks panicked. The air around them had gone calm, everything soft and heavy when the woman before him went limp. He reached for her pulse, dreading that it would be as still as the air she’d been dominating a moment before.

Maybe she passed out? She couldn’t hide all that energy so quickly, couldn’t—

His fingers found that miraculous pulse on her neck, drumming slower and slower, until his own spiked at the touch of her hand on his. Y/N sat up straight as she held onto him. She stayed so calm while she begged.

“I can’t go with you, Shanks. I told you already, remember?” She made him dizzy, trying to remember something vital, but he couldn’t look away from her. “You promised that you would take Buggy and make him happy, but you lied! You promised me that you’d love him with everything in you.”

Buggy.

Shanks shook himself, but it was too late to save those words. Words he’d always meant to say to his oldest friend but never found the right time.

I don’t deserve it anyway.

He pulled back enough that she was pulled forward slightly, refusing to free his cloak from her shaking hands. Her eyes were wide and unblinking as though she was trying to keep her tears at bay, but their failures had already stained her cheeks.

“You promised. So, leave,” Y/N demanded. “I want to stay. Please, make him happy.”

“Bunny,” he gasped while he reached for his last chance, fumbling with it as though he wasn’t the ‘Great Red Haired Shanks.’ Finally pulling it free, he held the key between them and almost huffed a laugh at the adorable look of confusion on her face.

This whirlwind of a woman had overwhelmed him so thoroughly that he’d nearly forgotten the little key in his pocket. This key that he might have worn down into nothing if he held onto it another night, the tiny bit of metal like a worry stone to soothe his wretched soul.

Y/N was still staring at it, brows furrowed until he cleared his throat.

“That’s a pretty necklace you’ve got there, bunny,” Shanks breathed, a little freer now that Buggy’s locket had spilled from that red dress. He was feeling too much hope, but he was too damn selfish to fight it. “Whoever gave it to you must have good taste.”

~~~🔴🔴🔴~~~

~~~~~~

~~~⏰🔴🔴🔴⏰~~~

Somehow, no matter what corner of the world they’d passed out in, the air always tasted sweet when he woke with Buggy in his arms. Shanks had never been a morning person, yet his body seemed to crave that feeling as much as his heart did.

His body seemed to grieve the loss of it, a split second of fear before he melted into the pleasure of feeling his lover beside him.

“Mornin,’ Bugs,” he teased, trailing his breath along Buggy’s shoulder while his little morning whines got louder.

“Shanks…”

His eyes rolled back at that perfect sound. He needed to make it louder, needed to hear it again and again. Shanks held himself back, though he was nearly drunk on Buggy’s sleepy moans.

He had to savor this.

Buggy wasn’t ready to come back yet, but the future Shanks held in his mind made every goodbye all the sweeter. He didn’t want to dwell on the absence when he could look forward to every chance encounter. Especially when each time they parted brought them closer to that lovely future.

He didn’t see any other future ahead, except for the days he drank his doubts away.

Buggy would join him in the end.

“Of course you will,” Shanks almost commanded as he whispered along Buggy’s ear.

“I will—what? Ah, shit,” Buggy squirmed away when he caught eyes with his lover, though he didn’t squirm very far. “You’re still here? You’d better pitch in for this room since you—Fuck. Idiot…”

“That’s no way to greet a guest,” the red-haired pirate teased, his hand curled around Buggy’s body until he found his clown waiting and ready. Until Buggy started moaning again and the rest of the world, the rest of time, disappeared.

“You’re more of a PEST than a guest,” the clown complained before Shanks gripped his balls, tugging slightly until Buggy relaxed against him. “Asshole.”

“Is that an invitation,” Shanks chuckled. He left kisses now while he pressed his cock against the squirming, grumbling clown. “Missed me, didn’t you, Bugs?”

“Shut up and fuck me already,” Buggy ordered, though his voice was breathy while he fetched the lube with a floating hand. Now he was squirming so well, lifting his thigh to let Shanks in. The red-haired lover played and praised, fingers reaching and stretching before he claimed his clown.

Perfect.

“Knew ya missed me, baby,” Shanks growled, triumph coursing through his veins when his body found Buggy’s again. Still lying on their sides, his hand reached around to grasp that swollen length while his own, brutal cock made all those pretty whines return. “You’re so good for me, Bugs.”

“Fuck, please,” Buggy whined when Shanks stopped stroking him. He gave out the cutest, little yelp when Shanks nipped at his neck, still pounding into him when he replied.

“Please what, baby? Missing my touch already?”

Buggy turned to look at him over his shoulder, those beautiful eyes so desperate while he frowned.

Shanks snatched that blue hair, and Buggy disconnected his head from his neck to turn into that hungry kiss. He was rewarded with that greedy hand back on his leaking dick, but Shanks bit the clown’s lip to keep him from ending that delicious kiss.

The red-haired pirate drank in those precious noises now. They kept going while Buggy twitched and came in his hand. Such perfect noises while Shanks filled him up, so fucking high while he shoved himself deeper and deeper. Only the urgent need to breathe could have broken that kiss.

His clown stayed for a bit. Shanks ached to keep him now, but he took what he could get. Buggy stayed in his arms long enough to catch his breath before he was bickering again.

Shanks smiled at Buggy’s frown, even while he floated away.

It wouldn’t be the last time.

~~~⏰🔴🔴🔴⏰~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~

A key.

A missing key.

The onslaught of emotions you’d just drowned in seemed like nothing compared to the sickening mix of horror and hope that little key had sparked.

“No.”

Shanks looked pained at your cowardly word, but he didn’t reply, and he didn’t move.

The key was just there, and you wished you didn’t have to know.

A laugh, twisted and terrible, left your lips when you reached for it; your shaky hand was smeared with makeup and tears, and the thought of your pathetic cries was too much.

This was too much.

“I can help—”

“DON’T TOUCH ME,” you screamed, batting that greedy hand away while yours fumbled with that warm lump of metal. That chain of guilt and brightness slipped easily from your neck, yet the loss of its weight was heavy, pulling you deeper into the quiet earth beneath you.

It’s just a picture. I’ll get to see his face one last time. That’s good.

You hadn’t looked at it in a while, and the pressure of more stupid tears burned your throat as you traced your fingers over the pretty pictures. That ship and its shining star. That six and its spade. That keyhole and it's no longer missing key.

The locket fell with its key, just a lump of metal on the bed while you held onto the true source of that warmth. You cradled an ear in your hands and somehow the raging storm of emotions within you went still.

It wasn’t the sick stillness of escape. This stillness was quiet and warm. Soft and secret.

It made you forget the world.

It was just you, and Buggy, and his ear that had gone pink like it always did when he got flustered, when you praised him, and kissed him.

For just a moment, you were free. The vision was so clear that you laughed with gratitude. The most precious daydream played out in that one glorious moment, and it made everything alright.

Everything had been worth it.

“Thank you for saving me, Buggy,” you breathed over his skin. “But I need you to stop. I need you to let me go.”

“Bunny, wait,” cried the red-haired hunter when you placed that lovely ear in his hand. “Please, tell me what you need. I’ll do anything.”

There was no mirror in the tent that you could see, so you did what you could to clean the mess of makeup and tears from your face. Shanks followed you while you searched, while you stretched your body that felt so perfectly light without that chain.

Everything was fine now.

There was just one last thing…

 “Please, love him,” you smiled up at the Emperor while you cradled his cheek. “You owe me, Shanks.”

Bells. Distant, but drifting through the hills. Soon you would leave this magical tent, this dip in the world.

Better to end it now before the pain hit again.

“Let me go, Shanks,” you sighed, still giving a true smile when he blocked your path to the exit. “I want to—”

“I’ll kill him for you,” the monster vowed, those soft eyes gone hard as steel. His voice clawed through your stillness, until fear filled your veins. It started slow like poison, drifting up from the floor until you were nearly paralyzed beneath his looming form. “Let me end it right now, bunny. All these leeches deserve it, don’t they? Cedrick deserves—”

“Don’t you dare hurt him!”

Too much fear and rage slammed through you, so you couldn’t even laugh at the dumbfounded look on his face.

The bells were closer.

“Same goes for you, Buggy,” you let out a hiss, regretting that your last words couldn’t be sweet. “Tell Crocodile and Mihawk, too. If any of you hurt my family in any way, I will never forgive you, or myself. I will hate you all with everything in me.”

“But…” Shanks tried, but his mouth hung slack, his shoulders slumped while he still stood in your way.

“No buts, Emperor,” you mocked. Your precious moment was gone now, replaced by anger and disgust in the only weapon you had. You were disgusting, but it would all be worth it. “If you hurt any member of my family, I will kill myself. You’d have to keep me in a fucking cage, but I’d still find a way. Now, let me go.”

The Hunter didn’t move, but he didn’t stop you from going around him.

The night air was cool and sweet, but the fluffy robe wrapped around you like burning chains. You closed your eyes until you were shut away, not wanting to gaze at the sky again.

You’d seen just a piece of your true love tonight, and no other shining stars could compare.

~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🔴🔴🔴~~~

She was gone.

Red Haired Shanks stared into the space she’d left for what felt like decades, frozen in shame and disbelief, until glinting red caught his eyes.

“Wait, Bugs! I…”

The jamming snail’s glowing eyes drooped, slowing until the creature slumped within its horned shell. It looked nearly as sick as the failed hunter felt.

Shanks collapsed onto the bed, resisting the twisted urge to kiss Buggy’s ear, to take comfort, to take and take like he always did.

He’d failed them all. He couldn’t do anything.

And now he’d wasted his chance to apologize, not willing to risk the slim chance that he could still do any fucking thing to help.

He returned Buggy’s ear to that locket. It was a new, lovely worry stone for him to use.

I’m no hero. Just an asshole.

Sick laughter surprised that Emperor of the Sea when it spilled from his lips, the memory so bittersweet as it flooded his mind.

Y/N’s first accusation.

It hadn’t been that cursed island; it was that sweet, sick girl. She had held up this mirror, and Shanks could only thank her, pitiful and weak while he cowered beneath his own reflection.

“Too much fun,” Benn asked, that deep voice too soft while he leaned over the bed to look him over.

Every bit of his life felt like a lie.

“Nothing another bottle won’t fix, old man.”

~~~🔴🔴🔴~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~

Nothing was real. Waking, breathing, moving, all felt wrong. It was supposed to be over already, yet you still existed in this unfamiliar body.

You still had to function for a few more days and Kat wasn’t there to remind you to eat.

Your mother did the bare minimum, beaming at Shanks while she tasted all the dishes on the breakfast spread to encourage you to act like a normal, pretty doll.

How could you eat when the Emperor of the Sea kept his eyes on you?

The Hunter had almost been late, and he almost smelled like wine, but his voice was soft and villainous, and his gaze was a cruel torture. Temptation and punishment for your weak, selfish wants.

Yet, nothing could have weakened you more than the knowledge that Buggy was listening.

Shanks would keep him close, and any word you spoke would reach him.

How could you eat when you were being flayed alive?

“You must have had quite the date,” Uncle Cedrick quashed what remained of your useless hope. “Seems you wore out the little bride already. Need some coffee, niece?”

There would be no escape, but Kat would be safe, and Buggy would be loved.

That’s good.

Everything else is fine.

~~~🔴🔴🔴~~~

Red Haired Shanks had woken early.

Stupid, fucking birds were chirping too fucking close, the sharp sounds piercing through his skull. None of the bottles he’d drunk had fixed a thing.

The pain of the bright, loud morning outside his tent hadn’t woken him; that warm lump of metal in his fist was enough. His clown was there, listening to his failures that piled higher and higher. He could have suffocated beneath the weight, as though this grassy basin was being filled with a mountain of dirt.

He could have laid there until the end, let the earth bury him away. The Emperor was nothing but a coward, relieved that he could drift into darkness on his own now. He didn’t need the pomp and circumstance, the admiration or the trust he’d been gifted by so many.

Visions of laughter and smiling faces poured through like poison.

Shanks did want all of that. He wanted the life he’d made, and the comfort and steadiness that only being a hero could grant.

Yet, it was never enough.

More than anything, Shanks wanted to be a hero for the people he loved.

I’ve been going about this all wrong.

Shanks pieced himself back together, struggling not to think out loud. He held that warm metal in his pocket to keep from speaking to the piece of his love that dwelled within it.

I came here to be a villain, the red-haired hunter reminded himself while he watched Y/N fading away behind a smile and an empty plate. Shanks worked the crowd during their vapid interview, still disgusted by his ability to charm, and bewildered by her ability to pretend.

Y/N seemed truly empty now. Broken.

It’s not over yet.

She had slipped from his grasp, all that energy inside her gone cold. He’d spent so long chasing her, yet that precious little bunny had never been his prey.

“Dear friends and Hunters,” his true prey beamed. Cedrick Sylvad had taken the stage again, controlling this insatiable crowd with ease. He seemed to glow when his game was played out, when his toys followed his every whim. “It’s been an honor to host you during this Hunt. Only two remain, and in two days’ time, one of these Hunters will claim her.”

Shanks followed his prey’s guiding motion to stand beside him, the green-haired prince flanking his other side.

Leeches. Vultures. Pigs.

The horde of vermin writhed and squealed with pleasure, as though Shanks couldn’t kill them in an instant for treating him like a toy, just there to amuse them.

“We will have a day of rest tomorrow, so our Hunters and their lovely doe can think on their choice,” Sylvad announced. He dared to put his hand on Shanks’ shoulder, so at ease while he enjoyed the attention. “I wonder which of you will be joining our family… Either way, this wedding will be one for the books!”

Shanks nearly ended the man on that stage when those owning fingers squeezed his shoulder, shaking for just a moment as though showing off his new toy.

He couldn’t kill him. Couldn’t.

But Shanks would hunt him all the same.

~~~🔴~~~

The next day was dark without that wounded star, her fading light still more beautiful than anything on this greedy island. No amount of wandering, or jokingly asking for his little bunny, could guide him to her.

Even her mountainous rage and despair were absent from the air, as though she’d faded away completely.

It would have been easy to find her. He could just take her. His power shook beneath his skin, tempting, calling, seducing. Like an addict, Shanks had to ward off every bargaining thought.

If he wanted to be a hero, he’d have to do this the hard way, which was harder with every passing hour that his prey kept him waiting. Everywhere he looked, his own stupid face was displayed beside that cocky prince. Decorations and invitations to a wedding that was more of a game than anything else flooded the space.

Shanks frowned at one of the banners again, zoning out on the foggy treetops and decorative arrows and leaves.

Antlers were the only hint that Y/N was involved in this wedding at all. They framed the title, ‘The Hunt Is Over,’ leaving the faces of the Hunters to float above the trees, arrows pointing down toward the tantalizing question that so many had already lost berry over.

‘Which Hunter Will Claim Her?’

~~~

~~~

It really was pretty. If Shanks didn’t want to rip out their throats, he might have praised whoever designed the annoying sign that he couldn’t stop staring at.

“Excuse me, Emperor Shanks?”

The pretty servant girl cleared her throat. Her eyes flew wide with fear when she met his stony gaze, until he remembered that he wasn’t there to slaughter them all. She blushed at his false smile, his charm enough to cover the violence humming within, at least for this pretty girl that led him deeper in deeper into the monster’s den.

“There's my favorite Emperor,” Cedrick welcomed Shanks into his gleaming office.

Every perfect item seemed in its perfect place, except for a wooden chair along the wall beside the desk. Y/N’s uncle motioned for Shanks to sit across from him in a cushioned chair that matched his own, but that wooden chair left a hint of disgust on the pirate's tongue that he had to choke down.

He tortures his food before he eats, doesn’t he?

Shanks had to focus now. He had to charm this beast. Yet, it was all he could do to soothe the beast within him when Sylvad ordered his guards and servants from the room.

He couldn’t kill him. Shanks couldn’t go against her wishes, but he knew he was right on this.

Cedrick Sylvad deserved to die.

“May I confess something rather embarrassing, Shanks,” he smirked, like a child that already ate all the sweets. It was all the pirate could do to keep pretending, so he nodded while he reached for the offered glass of whiskey to have something to cling to.

“Of course. You’re one of my most fashionable friends now, aren’t you?”

The beast laughed with pleasure while they tapped their glasses, hunger in his greedy eyes before he spilled his secrets.

“The truth is, I’m a bit of a fan,” Cedrick laughed at himself, and then at Shanks’ blank face. “I was enamored with tales of the Pirate King growing up. The thought of being so powerful that the world declared you a king… I couldn’t get enough of those stories. Quite a cliché fantasy for a second son, I know. Yet, here I am, sharing a drink with Roger’s apprentice.”

“To Roger.” Shanks raised his glass again, hoping that the old man couldn’t see him now.

“To the One Piece,” Cedrick urged, a manic glint in his eyes while they toasted again. “And to Hunters and Kings that claim what’s theirs.”

The man laughed while he opened a hidden window into a room beside the desk, so many glinting shells in that luxurious snail enclosure. The beast was having so much fun, almost giddy while he played with his toys.

The newest was a familiar, horned snail, but its red eyes stayed dormant for now, while he lined up a large projector snail to face the opposite wall.

“Shanks, I am about to share some delicate family secrets with you. Regardless of whether you accept the terms of this marriage contract or not, I hope that you will take them to your grave.”

The beast dropped his smile with this somber tone, but Shanks could still taste it. He was having fun.

“You have my word,” Shanks lied.

“I’m glad to hear it. I am going to show you something quite shocking, and quite dangerous. Please hold your questions until the recording is over, and the horned snail is active.”

He didn’t wait for a reply before dimming the lights for the show.

Shanks almost killed him then. His own Haki fought against him, and he had to conquer himself now, otherwise that greedy island would be nothing but dust.

That wounded star… It was a nightmare. Endless clips of that broken girl reaching her breaking point, sick laughter filling the space while Shanks fought not to reach for the locket.

Many of the scenes were in a hospital—an asylum, but the Emperor swallowed down more bile as other scenes followed Y/N through the world, as though everywhere she’d gone had been owned by this monster and his fucking snails.

Each clip was short, but they all showed him what Cedrick wanted him to see.

~~~

‘Don’t worry,’ the young girl cackled while she rubbed her hands over her face, smearing lipstick down her chin while her little sister cried at her side. ‘It’s just dolls! Just pretend. Just a brokendollbrokendoll—'

~

‘I’ll make you poor, and dead. Don’t forget, your daughter’s not well!’

The wounded star was older as she breathed her rage against her mother’s face. A hint of fear showed in her mother’s eyes before Y/N walked away, harsh laughter following her through the halls.

Her laughter.

~

‘Everyone here wants to help you, Y/N,’ floated an unnervingly soothing voice from off the screen while Y/N struggled with the restraints at her wrists. ‘We want you to get well.’

‘And I want you to fucking DIE! Haha HA!! That's right, you piece of shit, I’m going to fucking KILL YOU!!—‘

~

Y/N had no laughter or tears in the last clip. Just fury on her face while she lunged across a breakfast table toward her smirking uncle. Dishes shattered as she sent things flying, but she seemed to break more once the guards and servants pulled her back, soothing voices guiding that empty girl away.

~~~

“My apologies, Shanks. I know how shocking it must be to see such a sweet, young girl for the monster she truly is,” Cedrick sighed, the corner of his lips hinting at his delight. He swapped out his toys now, the visions of nightmares replaced by the jamming snail’s red eyes. “Please, allow me to explain.”

The Emperor of the Sea couldn’t speak, but the beast didn’t seem to mind. Cedrick filled their glasses again and enjoyed the sound of his own voice.

“My dear brother was quite sentimental, if you recall,” Cedrick began, almost including Shanks in the conversation. “He cared for my dear niece so much that it broke the poor girl’s mind when he passed. After all these years of treatment and support, I’m afraid that Y/N will always be sick. That last clip was just a few weeks ago, you see.”

The burn of whiskey on his tongue. His mind couldn’t focus on anything else.

“I’ve done everything I can to protect her, and the people around her,” Sylvad bragged, resting his feet on the edge of his desk. “Unfortunately, Arbo put us all in a difficult position with his will. That sick girl is his sole heir, and she’ll only become the heir when she marries. Even more dangerous than that, he declared that whoever my niece marries will own half of our family’s company once the vows are sealed.”

Shanks remembered to act surprised, but he still couldn’t speak. Cedrick nodded at his furrowed brows and continued on.

The beast knocked on the wood beside the jamming snail, drawing the Emperor’s eyes. Controlling even him.

“I’m sure you can understand why I’ve gone to such lengths to protect Y/N from her father’s blunders. The poor girl isn’t well. Putting her, let alone whatever villain that decides to take her for himself, in charge of her father’s legacy would be cruel. Shameful.”

“Of course,” Shanks managed to say something, although he wasn’t sure what.

The beast seemed pleased by the sound, his tone shifting while he tilted his head back and forth.

“I have had the great honor of guiding my family through this storm,” Sylvad dragged on. “I will do everything to protect the Sylvad family legacy, so I have allowed my sick niece as much freedom as possible, but it’s time to set things right. She’s unwell.”

He had to stop sinking. Shanks had to wake up.

Had to fix this.

“So, she needs a husband that can head the company? I didn’t think—”

“Y/N needs a husband that will sign their half of the company to me so that I can continue to run it without exposing how vulnerable and violent Arbo’s favorite daughter is.”

Finally. Finally, fucking getting somewhere.

Cedrick pulled a crisp sheet of paper from the drawer beside him, laying it out along with a wooden pen carved and etched with gold branches and leaves.

“This seems a bit rushed,” Shanks teased, trailing his fingers across the contract. “What if Y/N doesn’t choose me? What if I decide to take her and elope instead?”

“Such a pirate,” Sylvad chuckled, as though praising a favorite pet.  “As you’ve seen, my dear niece has been sick since she was a child. We have kept it hidden to protect her dignity and the family’s reputation, and although we’ve kept the full details of Arbo’s will hidden as well, it wouldn’t matter. Y/N can’t get married.”

He gave a deep laugh now, leaning his head back after Shanks’ confused expression.

Shanks was going to kill this man if he kept this going much longer.

“Due to a legal conflict of interest with the stipulations in Arbo’s will, Delaine wasn’t able to take on the role after he passed, so my sister-in-law came to me for help. As Y/N’s conservator, it has been my duty to keep her healthy, and to provide as much freedom as is safe for someone in her condition.”

The realization hit the Emperor like a punch to the gut, but he sipped his drink to keep from showing it.

He really does own her.

“So, don’t go getting greedy, friend,” Cedrick scolded, tapping the contract between them. “Even if you steal her away, I must give consent and sign the documents for her marriage to be binding. Worry not, I’m sure you’d rather be out on the seas than mired in paperwork. You’ll still gain plenty of wealth, land, resources, a butchered Adam tree… Hells, I can even call in favors for you if you need certain areas cleared on your path to the One Piece. The Sylvad family takes care of its own.”

Shanks looked it over, noting that all he said was true. All it asked of him was to transfer over his portion of the Sylvad company immediately upon marriage. If he married Y/N, her uncle would win.

He signed it. He was here to charm the beast.

“Wonderful,” Cedrick purred while he studied Shanks’ signature and added his own. “Now, regarding the question of Y/N’s choice… I’d like to offer you another deal, in case my dear niece chooses the prince. You will gain everything from this agreement, except you will be marrying a younger, healthier, less… traveled bride.”

Cedrick pulled a picture frame from the top drawer of his desk, smiling at it before he laid it between them like he had the contract.

Kat. Y/N’s little sister, beautiful, even without the matching family smile.

“I understand if you’d like to punish the brat that cost you the Jewel Tree Adam all those years ago,” Sylvad beamed over his steepled fingers when Shanks met his gaze, “but I assure you, Kathryn will make a much finer Queen.”

“Both of these deals favor me,” Shanks tried, lost in the riptide of this man’s little world. How could he charm the beast when the beast kept pulling him closer, offering more and more? “What is it that I’ll be bringing to the table? There’s no company to sign away for Kathryn, is there?”

“I’m a fan, remember?”

The pleasure in those words shifted the air in the room, and Shanks was too busy trying not to be sick to figure out why.

“Follow me, Shanks, I’ll prove it.”

He obeyed, following the man that owned too much across the large room to stand before one of the many paintings of cedar trees along the walls.

Sylvad was humming again when he pressed the side of the gilded frame. The painting swung out on a hinge to reveal a few smaller frames that held various wanted posters and newspaper clippings inside, but Cedrick drew his attention to the article in the center.

It was old, so many secrets protected behind glass and gold.

“That article doesn’t say much,” the beast sighed, letting Shanks read it, as though the pirate could read a thing right now. “But the author is a friend of mine, so I got to hear Morgans’ real take on the God Valley Incident. Rumors that even that old bird wouldn’t risk putting to paper, but if they’re true… Well, I’d be an even bigger fan.”

The Emperor could just leave. Run like a coward from the sick desire in his enemy’s eyes.    

But he had promised.

“What do you mean,” Red Haired Shanks asked. He hoped he could tear that question from the world, so he’d never have to say those fucking words again for the rest of his life.

Cedrick took in a breath, wetting his lips before gripping the Emperor’s shoulder again. He couldn’t know how close to death he was.

“Sylvad’s are good at keeping secrets, Shanks,” he promised before leaning close enough to breathe the secret along Shanks’ ear. “My nieces would be honored to carry the blood of Dragons.”

No. Run away.

Shanks couldn’t run. He’d promised to become a villain to save her. A monster.

Cedrick Sylvad dragged that greedy hand along his arm, not even flinching when the Emperor looked down his nose at him.

This trash thinks he can own everyone, doesn’t he?

“Do you agree to both offers, Shanks? Will one of my nieces be mother to a— “

“Of course, Cedrick,” the monster purred. “How could I resist?”

~~~🔴🔴🔴~~~

~~~~~~

Likes, comments, and reblogs bring me much ✨dopamine✨ thank you!!

Author's Note: Wowzers, this one was a lot. I've had this chapter outlined since before the Hunt began, but finally getting to write it felt intense. I think I psyched myself out, lol. I hope you enjoyed it! Also, who's ready for the wedding?? I have some wedding plans drawn up already, but I had to stop myself from focusing too far ahead until I got to this point, so I don't have a chapter estimate yet. Knowing me, this might be a lengthy wedding, lol. It'll definitely be a wild one though 🥰

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Chapter 41

This world is hard, and finding ways to help can be overwhelming. Operation Olive Branch is a volunteer, grassroots effort committed to the collective liberation of all peoples, and they prioritize transparency and community. If you enjoyed this fic, and are able, please click the link to find a list of fundraisers, as well as other ways to help.

| masterlist | about me | rules | ao3 |

[therealstacyfakename]

My Favorite 9-1-1 Fics of 2024

This year I read more fanfic than ever before so there's quite a few here. I just want to shout out these fic authors who brought me joy in 2024 and give you fic recs. Sorted by pairing (or lack thereof, there are gen fics in here) with word counts and summaries!

🔥 next to fics that feature a lot of smut or the smut was really memorable.

Buck/Eddie:

i found love where it wasn't supposed to be by chromatophorica - 12k words

Eddie thinks Bobby is Buck's dad when he joins the station. Assumptions lead to miscommunication.

Monday (You Could Fall Apart) by Pansys_goth_gf - 12k words

Evan Buckley enlists in the army fresh out of high school and falls in love with his best friend. Things spiral from there. From the prompt “Secretly Married”

if it weren’t for second chances by alasse - 47k words

When Buck doesn’t save Daniel, the Buckleys put him in foster care. Seventeen years later, Bobby meets a tall, lanky kid who can’t stop eating his pancakes at a church breakfast, and he gives him a phone number and an unconditional offer of help. A story about how Buck finds a chosen family, and with a few twists and turns, eventually gets to the 118, meets Eddie Diaz, and maybe finds himself a second and a third (or, an Evan Nash story)

Face to my face by EtoileGarden - 46k words

Girl dad buck!!! He fathers a child in his Buck 1.0 days and raises her starting at the end of season 1.

Waves (it comes and goes) by SunSpell80 - 40k words

Evan Buckley left his past behind when he left home for good at age 19. But an unexpected phone call on a quiet shift disrupts the life he's built for himself: forcing him to confront his past in order to build a new future. This fic is rather dark, it deals with discussion of past child sexual abuse and attempted murder.

the mark they saw on my collarbone by stockholm_syndrom - 27k words

Omega!Eddie and alpha!buck fic focused on gender roles, being a single parent, shame for being an omega, and Shannon. Highly highly recommend if you're into omegaverse.

🔥Second Best by Nejinee - 51k words

Eddie has convinced himself that helping Buck through his heat is perfectly normal behaviour between friends. It didn’t mean anything. omega!buck and alpha!Eddie fic where buck just wants to biohack his way out of his heats as fast as possible and Eddie wants to be a good friend and help!

🔥 Racing with the Brakes Cut by letmetellyouaboutmyfeels - 65k words

Buddie Fast & Furious AU with beautiful writing and smut that I haven't been able to stop thinking about

🔥 Let My Ink Stain Your Pages by letmetellyouaboutmyfeels - 107k words

Having just killed off his popular character, bestselling author Evan Buckley needs some new inspiration and fast. Luckily for him, Det. Eddie Diaz is about to stroll into his life. Castle AU!! my favorite fic by this author <3

new growth by notathingtoseehere - 15k words

Eddie in therapy after the fight club era.

good pretender by likeshipsonthesea - 85k words

an au where buck broke up with taylor before 5b, ravi and buck become (actually platonic) friends with benefits, and ravi, eddie, and buck all go on a journey of self-discovery that ends with them all getting what they need

I was like omg haha fwb sex leads to jealousy lol and then this fic was so moving and profound I couldn't put it down. I read this in one day.

Followed By Ghosts by itsanapothecary - 21k words

Instead of hiding the truth about Daniel from their children, Margaret and Philip memorialize their lost son in every one of their remaining children's accomplishments. Growing up, neither Maddie nor Buck felt like they could escape the shadow of their brother. When Buck finds the 118, he gets a chance to be his own person, although the looming attention from his parents and weight of expectations threatens to jeopardize what he's built in Los Angeles.

Buck/Tommy:

what are your intentions? by screamlet - 141k words

It's Tommy and Buck—the family they find and the family they make.

Listen listen when I say that one of the best pieces of literature I read this year was this fanfiction I mean it. It's buck and Tommy's love story, it's finding queer identity, it's family, it's everything. It's such a great exploration of what Bucktommy could've been. I wasn't 100% convinced when I read the first chapter but so glad I continued. I could gush about this fic for a while but don't want to spoil it.

my high hopes are getting low, but I know I'll never be alone by foxaquatica - 4k words

Buck and Tommy have moved in together and decide to tell their parents, so they invite them to brunch, and it almost goes well, except Margaret Buckley just keeps talking.

🔥Off the Ground by pepperlandgirl4 - 65k words series, marked in complete

Tommy is Abbey's ex-boyfriend and meets Buck when Buck is staying in Abbey's condo. A canon-compliant, different first meeting AU that explores the relationship through the events of season 2 and beyond.

((I personally miss the simpler times when Tommy/Abby was just a silly fan theory, well this fic is from that and very enjoyable. Also very hot))

Over the Rainbow by typicalopposite @typicalopposite - 40k words

the heavily angsty mpreg no one asked for that I just needed to tell anyway!

bucktommy mpreg written before the mpreg explosion post-breakup, it's crazy.

Rebuilding Burnt Bridges by LadyEyre - 65k words, ongoing series

When his grandmother passes away, Tommy is faced with the opportunity to reforge relationships with his estranged family.

Four works so far, very touching. Becomes more OC focused as you get into it, so not a lot of romantic development or scenes. A fic focused on family healing if you're into that.

🔥Paint Me in Neon and Make Me Glow by letmetellyouaboutmyfeels - 12k words

the five times Buck had an exhibitionist kink and the one time Tommy fucked him about it.

the shaky things we’ve seen by origamifrogs - 41k words

After a 118 call gone awry, Buck and Tommy become emergency foster parents to a three month old baby named Annabelle. Or, Tommy begins (and begins again).

Ugh bucktommy with a kid & foster care themes in a 9-1-1 fic it's everything I love. A lot of interesting Tommy stuff too.

Tommy, Actually by rosetterer - 21k words

Tommy's life then and now. While moving he finds a box of memories and you see his life story.

Where It Wasn't Supposed to Be by Princessfbi - 45k words

Buck and Tommy meet and start dating while Tommy is at the 118, only Tommy is still closeted and that brings its own issues.

🔥No way it was our last night by harmonic-intervention (BackseatSerenade) - 18k words

In Buck's defense, the first time it happened, it had been an accident. Somehow, calling Tommy in this situation was the least embarrassing option. - bucktommy fix-it, Buck finds the worst doms he can so Tommy will come and take care of him. It goes as well as expected.

somebody out there who will by kitthekazoo - 61k words

Married to his best friend, Evan Buckley thought he had everything he needed to be happy. When Eddie offers to open the relationship so Buck can explore sexually outside of their marriage, he's hesitant, but when he spends an eye-opening, incredible night with Tommy Kinard, it's exactly what he needed. However, the problems in his marriage have just started, and the simplest solution - break up with Tommy - isn't an option at all.

Dispatcher Tommy Kinard AU by Wolf - 58k words, ongoing series

Tommy meets season 1 Buck because he works as a dispatcher due to an injury. Series is ongoing and currently retelling season 2.

you may find yourself (in another part of the world) by indigostohelit - 65k words

Buck & Tommy are sailors in 1805 that's all you need to know.

Buck/Eddie/Tommy:

🔥don't just stand there by laurenttheninth - 20k words

Description: aka "five times Eddie Diaz almost walks in on his best friend having sex with a man, and the one time he absolutely does."

Yeah ok so this fic is so hot and the +1 in the trope low key made my jaw drop the first time I read it, so I highly recommend (this was one of the first 9-1-1 fics I ever read lol)

Clue by mmmargo @usercelestial - 3.9k words

So this is really buck/Tommy/Eddie/josh... Buck and Tommy have weekly game nights with Josh and Eddie. Chimney is totally normal about not being invited and accidentally does some sleuthing to find out what's so special about these parties which leads him to an interesting discovery.

No Romantic Pairings:

more would never be enough by ShyAudacity - 12k words

When he hears it again, Buck turns towards the living room, the sound getting clearer. He shuffles forward slowly; Buck goes to adjust his helmet and ends up knocking it off his head, landing just out of reach near the wall. He grimaces, reaching to grab it, and out of the corner of his eye, Buck spots two small feet and a brown and white stuffed dog tucked in the corner behind the couch. OR Buck rescues a foster kid.

listen listen listen if you read ONE fic without romance you should read this one. I love dad buck and foster care In a 9-1-1 fic too much

Good People. Bad Parents. by datleggy - 1.8k words

Buck shares some things and the team realizes his parents were abusive.

I feel it crash down (down on me) by smilingbuckley - 2k words

Buck discovered something in therapy and he talks about it with Bobby.

You would cry too, if it happened to you by Maximoff_Wanda - 2k words

The first birthday Buck spent on the 118, Bobby made him a cake and he was so confused as to who it was for cause no one has ever made him a birthday cake.

Knight’s Move by telm_393 - 14k words

Men usually develop schizophrenia between their late teens and early twenties. Albert Han, probationary firefighter with the LAFD, is twenty-three years old when the monsters move in. On a bad night, Chimney and Buck intervene. Nothing about this is easy. This fic is marked buddie but literally has no romance, it's about Albert suffering a psychotic break and his brother taking care of him.

Bonus Tarlos...

so I discovered 9-1-1 in July and didn't start Lone Star till October and still haven't actually finished it bc I'm in denial. So I have not yet gotten into Tarlos fanfic in earnest. But I love this series:

every beat of you, every measure and note by Flogsam - 50k words complete.

A series of fics about Carlos dealing with brain damage after the season 4 kidnapping. Very moving.

[i-drop-level-one-loot]

✨2000 FOLLOWER CELEBRATION!!!✨

Kirtch

I want to thank all of you for being such a wonderful community! I've gotten a few really good suggestions on what I should do for my 2K celebration, but the amount of people demanding more to the Human Pet trilogy is o v e r w h e l m i n g, lol so here you go ❤️ Thank you so much for enjoying my stories

CW: Monster fucking, yandere relationship, bittersweet feels

Ten years had passed since (Reader) was abducted from their home planet.

Kirtch smiled joyfully, chest swelling with adoration as his pet woke up from their slumber, stumbling into his office sleepily. Their skin glowed, a result of their carefully formulated diet made for humans, and the healthy layer of squish that had formed around their body was the result of Kirtch's pampering and excess treats. (Reader) was still just as cute as the day he saw them in the marketplace, now happier than ever.

They yawned, rubbing their eyes as they teetered over towards Kirtch, raising their arms to be picked up without speaking. Chuckling, Kirtch lifted them easily into his lap, rubbing their back as (Reader) struggled to wake up. "Good morning, pet. Did you sleep well?"

(Reader) smiled on reflex, leaning into the hard chest they had learned to find comfortable. His rough fingers ran up to their neck as he massaged them, feeling the track mark scar that would never fully fade. It was such a shame, that rounded reminder of darker days, when (Reader) was so unhappy and needed strict training. But that was all in the past. (Reader) had learned to love Kirtch, which meant he could spoil them to his heart's content.

Their body was bigger than before, but Kirtch found that they still nestled perfectly in his arms.

Inside (Reader's) mind, every day was a haze.

Like a dream they couldn't escape.

It took well over a year, having their brains practically liquified with chemicals to lose their grasp on who they were as a person. Memories of their parents melted away, leaving only strange blobs of abstract color that held no distinct shape, along with friends past lovers. (Reader) sometimes dreamt in their native tongue, hearing themselves in the language they spoke for the majority of their life, but in the morning (Reader) was speaking in Kirtch's language, something they had willingly desired to learn. (Reader) learned many tricks since they started living with Kirtch.

In the mirror by their rarely used bed, (Reader's) reflection had become as alien to them as the faces of the crew members on board the ship.

Part of (Reader) wondered if they should be concerned by that fact. But, outside of their time with Kirtch, (Reader) felt apathetic. It wasn't useful to have thoughts that weren't happy.

Dressed in beautiful silks, (Reader) draped their arms around Kirtch's shoulders, placing gentle kisses along his jaw.

At the beginning of their "relationship", Kirtch first viewed sex as a way to release his pet, then he began to crave it as a way to please his pet, wanting to do anything that to make his pet happy.

Now, it was something that was special. It still didn't fulfill Kirtch physically, as nothing could change his bodily functions, but if anyone else were to suggest that they "released" his (Reader) for him, Kirtch would kill them without a second thought. It was a special time for Kirtch, knowing that only he could make his precious (Reader) feel good.

Scaled fingers sunk deep into the fat of (Reader's) thighs as they pressed their lips against his face more roughly. (Reader) felt their lips begin to bruise as they kissed Kirtch's mouth, unfazed by his inhuman anatomy by this point in their relationship.

Yes, this was his pet. No one else was allowed to love them, touch them, like he did. Although he knew that one day (Reader's) life would come to an end, Kirtch knew that the ecstasy he felt by (Reader's) side would last for a hundred years after they were gone. There were no replacements for his (Reader), and honestly he felt no need for any other additions to his life either.

(Reader's) face was cupped in Kirtch's hands as the kisses became more passionate and frantic; (Reader's) hands slipping into his robes to feel his armored chest. Everything about (Reader) was too precious for words.

As his large, jewel like eyes gazed into (Reader's), he sometimes wondered if their lives could have been differently. Through many decades of studying humans Kirtch had learned of many different cultures and their mythologies, and although he knew that none of them were true, he sometimes fantasized about being reborn with (Reader) as humans, living and loving together in each other's arms, without the need for a collar.

His pelvis opened, revealing himself to (Reader), who excitedly removed their hands from his abdomen to caress his exposed member. Kirtch would do anything to protect that smile.

It never failed to fascinate him, the look on (Reader's) face as they slid down onto his dick. The way they scrunched up their nose before relaxing, sighing as Kirtch filled them entirely. (Reader's) body was fascinating. Kirtch could feel pressure whenever their muscles clenched around him; feel the vibrations from the shuddering of their quivering abdominals. Even if he couldn't feel the same stimulation, it was still a magical experience because he was allowed to experience it with his (Reader).

It was difficult, not staring at (Reader) in awe as they used his shoulders as leverage to bounce on his lap, moaning and gasping and biting their lip as they used his body for their pleasure. The strange slime that was his pre-cum creating a loud schlicking noise that echoed throughout Kirtch's sound proof room.

Assisting (Reader) by grabbing their ass cheeks and moving their body, Kirtch smiled as they spasmed, their red sweaty face letting out the sweetest sound of all as they climaxed around his cock. Kirtch allowed himself the release into their still twitching hole, forcing (Reader) to arch their back at the stimulation.

It was another beautiful day, with (Reader) filled with Kirtch's cum, still grinding against his hips and overstimulating themselves for fun, taking advantage of the fact that Kirtch could keep his erection as long as he pleased, even after cumming.

"I love you, pet." Kirtch whispered, placing his cold forehead on (Reader's) feverish one.

"I -I love you too!" (Reader) cried out, chasing another orgasm. Their body fell limp as another climax rolled like a large wave across their body, forcing out Kirtch's fluids which gushed back down over his dick and shelled thighs.

Kirtch was content.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Thank you all so much for loving Kirtch ❤️

And thank you all so so so so much for enjoying my writing enough to follow me!!!

We reached 2K followers while I was sleeping, and I am just floored.

Since this is a special, I have a little announcement..

I am planning a part 4 🎉

It's going to be extremely long, and won't come out until after kinktober finishes, but I've already begun the planning phase for the story ❤️

So, some other little facts about Kirtch!

I often read my stories out loud under my breath while writing, and for names I just say whatever feels natural sounding during the introduction for the character. For aliens and monsters without human names I sound out what feels right, then quickly Google it to make sure it isn't a real name lol

I wanted his exoskeleton to look like those big black beetles found in the garden that have a green sheen when the light hits them, except purple instead of green. And I when visualizing him I wanted his eyes to look like crystals, and what's more alien than opals? Many gem stone colors can be recreated with colored contacts, but I've never seen opal colored contacts, because of all the different colors opals have ❤️

Don't judge my art too much, I'm not an artist lol

It was difficult figuring out how a hard shelled creature would emote, but I think I figured it out haha

And bonus, Kirtch's slutty feet

Put those things away!

Again, thank you all so much for being such a wonderful community ❤️

And I hope you continue enjoying my stories in the future!!!!

[thisgirlnamedblusy]

👁️👄👁️ mayhaps g!p Donna X fem reader having morning sex. reader is a soft dom and has a praise kink. Reader just sweet talks Donna while she rocks her, then they go make breakfast after they manage to recover from their legs feeling like jelly lol

Yess!!! Thank you for your request!!! I hope you like it and sorry about the language mistakes!!! :))))

What a morning

Pairing: Donna Beneviento x Fem!! Reader

Warnings: G!P Donna, smut, Minors DNI, fluff,

Word count: 4,147

Summary: You didn't want to get out of bed...

N/A: Sorry about the language mistakes!!! Requests are open!!! I'm waiting yours!!!I love you all!!!

“Come on, tesoro... Wake up.”

A soft voice interrupted your pleasant slumber.

To be honest, you couldn't know if you woke up from a dream, or were already living on it. You, who already thought that your life would be reduced to taking care of animals and praying to Mother Miranda, were more than satisfied with the turn that fate had for you.

The inclement weather in the region helped you get lost in the forest, and find who would be the love of your life along the way. Donna Beneviento, Lord and lonely woman, also met her own fate due to inclement weather.

At first sullen and distrustful, she didn’t feel comfortable with your presence. You could have died. You could have hallucinated until you fell off the cliff. You didn't, you survived her anger at someone snooping around her territory.

And not happy with having the privilege of continuing to live, love came later. Donna could be many things, but nothing that had anything to do with what people said about her in the village. She was just a woman tormented by her past, by her appearance. She just needed someone like you to make her life less dark, and you, you too.

“Mm, leave me alone...” You said, slapping the air, trying to get rid of her soft touch on your body. “Five minutes…”

"That's what you said ten minutes ago, (Y/N), come on, we have things to do,” Donna whispered, treacherously uncovering you. You groaned in annoyance and shook your head.

“Donna... Come on, come here...” You whispered with your voice still asleep, searching everywhere for the warmth of the body that was hugging you.

She laughed sheepishly, but she shook her head, getting out of bed. Not before giving you a soft kiss on the lips.

You sat on the bed, trying to cover yourself from the cold of that dark room. Well, at least that way you could clear your mind.

“I thought today we could go for a walk in the woods,” she commented, getting rid of her nightgown and combing the black hair that drove you crazy.

“Can I take the bed with me?” You asked jokingly, rubbing your eyes. She laughed again, shaking her head.

You sighed and lay face down, admiring that beauty that took you so long to discover. Sometimes you found it that it wasn't really a dream, hard to believe.

When she turned around, you had to force yourself to contain your laughter. Donna was always so shy, so embarrassed... It was a shame that her body thought for itself, marking a prominent bulge in her underwear, to which you raised your eyebrows and shuffled a little closer to her.

“Oh…. Wow... Wow...” You sighed amused, biting your lip. Yes, some morning passion could be enough to wake you up.

“What?” She asked, oblivious to where your eyes were pointing. When she looked down, and she realized what exactly you were devouring in your thoughts, she cringed in shame, putting her hands in front of her to push that glorious vision away from you. “Oh, I'm, I'm sorry,” she said shyly, her face growing redder.

You laughed, shaking your head, not looking away from her.

“Why are you sorry? I like to see you so... Happy,” you commented with a velvety, sensual and provocative tone. You just hoped she wouldn't run away that time, as was customary when her body did that kind of things, seemingly for no reason.

“Don't... Look so directly at me, it makes me nervous,” Donna protested, looking away and turning around.

You laughed again, getting up from the bed and slowly walking towards the lady to grab her waist.

“I like what I see,” you whispered in her ear, making her cringe at your cheeky whisper. “Hey, Donna… What do you think if we change the walk thing? The woods are so boring...”

She sighed, grabbing the hands that rested on her waist and slowly turning towards you, with a look of suspicion.

“Oh, and… So… Where do you want to go?” She asked, a bit nervous about the kisses you were beginning to place on her neck, smiling against her skin.

“I had thought that maybe... Instead of walking through the woods you could...” You murmured, caressing her skin gently, making her stay completely still on the wooden floor. “You could take a walk… Through my body.”

Donna laughed and turned around, which you took advantage of to kiss her before she could protest or make some kind of absurd excuse.

“(Y/N), you are...” The doll maker whispered, taking a breath after a few hungry and eager kisses, which matched caresses to her bare chest.

“Wonderful? Incredible? The best?” You asked jokingly, hanging onto her neck and walking slowly until Donna collided with the edge of the bed.

“Impatient,” she whispered, pulling on your lower lip, showing you that ​​taking a short walk on your bare skin was a good plan. Her body only emphasized her conformity.

“Mm, maybe I am,” you said, gently pushing Donna so she fell on the bed and you could climb onto her body, moving your hips so you could feel her erection against your skin, something that drove you crazy. “Do you know what you are?” You asked with a hungry smile, as you got rid of your pajama shirt.

“No... I don't know,” she responded, grabbing your hips with her hands, maintaining that constant movement against her body.

“You are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen,” you whispered affectionately in her ear, making her tremble even more. Yes, you were an absolute fan of compliments, especially because of the reaction that those soft and tender words provoked in Donna.

“You make me blush,” she said, amused, joining your kisses, gently caressing your bare chest while you moved your hips slower making her body protest with a moan.

“That's the intention...” You hissed, with a dark, almost perverse tone, slowly kissing her chest, every inch of her skin, making her eye close in pleasure. “Do you want me to tell you more things?”

Donna nodded, holding on to you to keep you steady as her nails scratched your back in arousal. You laughed, standing up, causing another moan from the brunette, who felt the lack of contact like a stream of ice water.

“Then be a good girl and lie down on the bed,” you whispered in her ear, gently pushing her onto the mattress. Donna hesitated, but it was hard for her to turn down the opportunity to love you in such an unexpected way.

It wasn't the first time you caught her off guard. Every corner of the old estate had already been desecrated by your lust.

Crawling comically, she obeyed your request, lying down and watching expectantly as your pants disappeared in one swift movement, causing her dark, anxious gaze to fall on those now exposed parts.

“That's it... You're so good, Donna... You're so, so good...” You whispered, climbing onto her body and continuing with that soft friction, with discreet but noticeable movements of your hips.

She smiled, caressing your cheek as you kissed her neck, her chest, her shoulders... It was not something improvised on your part, it was intentional. You wanted to see her burn with desire, beg you to be closer to her, to have your hands playing with what her underwear was pathetically trying to hide.

“Oh, my love, do you need something?” You asked amused, grabbing one of your breasts, making her gasp at the sight and want to join on that lascivious touch. You pushed her hand away from you, clicking your tongue. “No, no, Donna… I asked you a question.”

She smiled nervously, but she kept your gaze, lowering that impatient hand over your chest, over your belly...

“I need you, (Y/N),” she whispered with a marked accent, her voice hoarse with her own desire, something you hoped to hear, but that wasn't enough for that torture you enjoyed every day.

“You’re so romantic…” You joked, making her shrug and look at you expectantly. “You love me, right?”

Donna nodded, her gaze tender, her hips moving a little faster, relieving the pressure she had between her legs.

“I love you, (Y/N),” she said softly, pulling you into a passionate kiss, something you didn't stop, laughing triumphantly at her serenity despite her nervousness.

It was possible that she was trying to fight against your words of affection. Maybe she was trying not to seem like a victim who gave in easily to your charms. Unfortunately for poor Donna, that was something she had never achieved.

You moved away from her kiss with a sigh that feigned severity, guiding her hand to where she wanted to go a few moments ago, to your breast, grabbing it, playing with your nipple between her soft and skillful fingers. You gasped, but remained calm. No, no, no. You were having control of the situation. Her caresses and kisses couldn't make you give in.

“I love you too, my love... My beautiful Donna,” You whispered, lowering your body so it rubbed against hers. The dance of your hips was accompanied by the wet kisses of your lips, which felt the vibration of her moans from your sweet words.

Her mouth traveled to your neck, to your shoulders, leaving her room to kiss, closing your eyes and enjoying her soft caresses, that romantic touch so far from lust and closer to innocence. But that didn't stop her mouth from biting one of your nipples, from stopping her lips from landing on innocent corners.

You smiled satisfied, moving away to play with the hem of your underwear, which had been getting in your way for a while.

Donna paused for a moment, only to watch your nakedness displayed in front of her. You noticed and played with the garment between your fingers, pouting at Lady Beneviento, who looked at you with curiosity and a bright eye, almost desperate.

“Do you want me to take it off? Do you want that, my love?” You asked in a sweet voice, moving away from her hips so she moaned again from the lack of contact. You discreetly glanced down at where her erection was twitching outside of her own underwear. No, not yet, you still had to play a bit more.

She nodded, frustrated at the lack of contact, bringing a hand to her trembling shaft to compensate the lack of your touch. That made you raise your eyebrows and give her a gentle smack as punishment.

“Donna, don't do that...” You scolded in a childish voice, leaning towards her and staying very, very close to her lips. “Don't be mean, mm?”

She moaned in response, trying to kiss you, which you prevented by pulling away again, causing her to protest with another anxious moan and stronger movements of her hips.

“Please, (Y/N)” she begged, framing your body with her hands, moving them over your skin so the temptation to masturbate would disappear with the softness of your body on top of hers.

You smiled again, caressing her chest, running your hand down her belly, brushing her erection with your fingers, making Donna gasp at your soft touch.

“Tell me, Donna, do you want me to take it off?” You asked with that soft voice again, emphasizing the movement of your hands in your underwear, pretending to lower it but at the last moment, you didn’t do it.

“Yes, please,” she asked in a comically formal way. To be honest, your panties had been bothering you for a long time, so there was no need to prolong that torture.

The garment disappeared down your ankles under her watchful gaze as she released her shaft from its prison, moaning in relief.

You put a hand on her chest so her back collided with the mattress. Your gaze was calm and your caresses were gentle, almost grazing her skin rather than touching it, a sensation she approved with a moan, grabbing your hips to position you in the desired spot, lining up your wet entrance with her trembling shaft, glistening with arousal.

Amused by her haste, you backed away from her, shaking your head and leaning into her ear.

“Who is the impatient one now?” You asked ironically, making her smile nervously, cupping your face in her hands and pulling you to cover yourself again with kisses, to continue that erotic dance of your bodies moving, rubbing skin to skin.

“I want you, (Y/N)...” Donna whispered, in your ear, making your dominant position about to falter, just about to falter.

“You want me,” you repeated amused, kissing her neck again, biting her skin, leaving a small mark, which made her tremble even more.

Your tireless lips moved down her chest, your tongue playing with her nipples, causing her moans to be replaced by gasps of surprise at your skillful movements.

Their hands stopped being so anxious and caressed you in a tender, romantic way, passing through your hair, over your back, brushing with your legs, with your hips, running over your entire body as if they wanted to memorize it, as if they wanted not to touch anything that wasn't your skin.

“You're so soft, so beautiful,” you whispered, rocking your hips, brushing her erection with your body, but only brushing. “Your whole body, your skin, is like a miracle, Donna, you are my miracle.”

Her eye widened and her expression saddened with a melancholy smile. Anything you could say to her was enough to get her excited by your words of affection. Donna was always alone. She never had anyone to tell her the truth of her existence, an almost divine one for you.

“(Y/N),” she moaned into your lips, pulling your face so they crashed into hers again, this time with more passion, with your tongues dancing at the same time as your bodies. The atmosphere had forgotten about the cold, it was only warm, scorching, capable of making you sweat while the desire increased, while it became more and more unbearable.

Her kisses turned you on even more, her hunger, the tremors of her body, the hardness of her shaft rubbing against your crotch. Even if you had wanted to wait a little longer, you wouldn't have been able to, not at all.

“Okay, my love... Here we go...” You said softly, lowering your hand to correctly position her erection at your entrance, playing with the tip on your clit, making you close your eyes in pleasure, just like her.

Donna kicked the mattress at the eternal waiting, at the touch of her penis against your moisture, without actually entering it. You knew she was enjoying it, but you also knew she needed you, a lot.

Little by little you lowered your body, feeling how her shaft slid smoothly inside you. Your arousal made that job easier, and made you shudder.

“Donna, you're so... Big...” You said in a low, lascivious tone, making the blush on her cheeks worsen as your walls hugged her body, stretching little by little. “You are perfect, my love, my body takes you so well…”

“So good...” She repeated when she was completely inside of you and you danced so she could feel you even more. “You, you hug so tightly, (Y/N)... I, I’m feeling you so much...”

“That's because I love you so much, my love, my beautiful Donna... My good Donna,” you said affectionately, moving slowly up and down, letting your body enjoy that intruder, letting your walls continue hugging her while you moaned in a low, sensual tone, one that you knew would make her more and more nervous, more excited.

Your words of comfort only made her moans the complete opposite of yours. Her hips moved as they could under your body, making you feel full, making you feel she was inside of you, making you hers and loving you as only Donna could do.

“My body is made for you, do you see? My body adores you, Donna, I adore you...”  You continued saying among moans, letting her hands play with your hips, making your body move the way she wanted, the way she needed.

“I, ti amo...”

You laughed at the loss of control of her language, something that only happened at moments like this, something that only anticipated how close she was to her release. But no, it was still early for that, although your body screamed for you to let your own orgasm out.

“Wait, honey...” You said, pulling out and making her moan in surprise and frustration at the loss of contact. “Come, come here.”

You lay down, taking her place, gently pulling on her hand so her body was on top of yours. Donna didn't protest the lack of her body in yours, surely she was embarrassingly close to her own release, and she didn't want it to be so soon either.

After a few wet kisses, which revealed with gasps the desire and hunger of your lust you opened your legs slightly, making the brunette position herself between them, entering you again with a faster movement, making you moan in surprise.

“Donna...” You sighed with a mischievous smile on your mouth, running your hands along her back, scratching her skin while her thrusts sent huge waves of pleasure to your body. She smiled, but she didn't stop, leaning into your body, a gesture you already knew, and you knew what it meant.

“Oh… My love... Do you want me to hug you?” You asked, to which she nodded moving slower inside of you, making your hips lose that dominant control and move without your permission. She went even deeper and lowered her head to your chest.

You hugged her lovingly while her body adapted to that new position, while your hands played with her hair, while your body took her again, this time faster, revealing her need... And yours.

“Shh, calm down, my love... I'm here with you...” You said while you cradled her body while you kept her so close to you, flattering her, showing that unconditional love, that way of showing those feelings. “Donna, I'm so close...”

She moaned at those words and her hips moved a little faster, in an almost frantic rhythm, synchronized with your moans. Your walls hugged her erection with hunger, with the impatience that your face didn’t show. You let yourself be carried away by pleasure, closing your eyes and hugging her body tightly, letting only her movements take you to the limit, something that didn't take long to happen.

Your back tensed, your nails digging into her skin as your body suffered the spasms of an intense orgasm, one that you released with a moan you were sure would have made a few more cracks in the walls.

“Keep going, keep going, my love, you're doing so well...” You said when Donna stopped to contemplate the pleasure that her body was giving you.

With you now free of pressure, she no longer had to worry, and she resumed her movements in a much more intense way, in the way she knew she couldn't endure for long.

“Can I do it inside? Please,” Donna asked you with an intense moan, with that need forcing her to stop until she heard your response. You smiled, embarrassingly close to a second release.

“Of course, Donna, you've been so good,” you said in a condescending tone, gripping the sheets to hide your second orgasm, one that was revealed when Donna moaned again with one last thrust and her heat was released inside of you.

You clung to her body, not wanting to lose that overwhelming heat, that wet caress that made its way into your body. Donna fell to your chest, hugging it tightly as her seed filled you, while your walls played with that wetness, tightening with a second orgasm.

“It has been...” She sighed, taking a breath, smiling freely and with her bright eye, smiling in a tender, almost innocent way, almost.

“Amazing, like you, Donna,” you said affectionately, letting her leave you and lean better on your heaving chest, letting your fingers tangle in her black hair again.

“You are so flattering,” she murmured, playing with her finger on your chest, intertwining your legs, wet from your actions, from her release and your wetness mixed together. “You tell me some very nice things, (Y/N).”

“Do you like me to tell you?” You asked laughing amused. It was a little fetish of yours, but if it served to make Donna look at you with that face, so be it.

“I like it so bad... I... No one had ever said something like that to me or... Or done something like that to me,” she said with a slightly sadder tone, surely remembering the darkness of her past.

“That doesn't matter anymore, Donna, you are with me now, and I will never stop telling you how much I love you,” you said with a sincere tone, free of lust and any other feeling that wasn’t love. “Should we take a shower?”

The hot water ran down your exhausted bodies. It was a relaxing sensation and at the same time… Hot, very hot.

Donna hugged you from behind, resting her head on your shoulder while you enjoyed that romantic feeling, those arms tenderly embracing you. A shame your head turned to the path of sin when you turned around.

Without giving her time to protest, you launched yourself into her kisses, ones that she accepted willingly, hugging your body, keeping it very close to hers, making it so not even water could extinguish the flame of passion.

It may not have been something so slow and intense, but still, that moment of passion underwater was also worth remembering. It was a more unbridled, faster, more accelerated passion. Your body maintained balance while her arms served as support, feeling her inside of you again, feeling how she took you again, eagerly, without fear, without shame. What a day, and it had just begun.

“I'm so, so tired...” You murmured, leaning on the kitchen counter.

Once dressed, you decided to prepare breakfast. With your body and hers hidden under the fabric of your dresses, there was no longer any room for temptation, well, at least on her part. You just had to imagine her body inside yours like a few moments ago to feel that unbearable heat again.

“Me too, you’ve destroyed me, (Y/N)” Donna said amused, watching how the coffee maker did its work on the fire.

“Well, don't exaggerate,” you joked, running your hands up her back and peeking over her shoulder, stealing a quick, chaste kiss, to which she smiled shyly.

“My legs are shaking, (Y/N),” she commented, amused, moving the coffee maker off the heat and exaggerating her steps. You laughed, shaking your head.

“Me too, and I'm not complaining that much,” you said, putting the cup in front of you so that bitter liquid would clear your mind and divert your desire to sleep.

“You were complaining five minutes ago, tesoro,” she commented, pouring a coffee to herself and blowing out the heat.

“Well, but... I don't know, it was worth it, don't you think?” You asked feigning indifference, leaning next to her and looking at the rickety ceiling.

She nodded, glancing at you out of the corner of her eye, sighing at the same time as you.

“What do you want us to do today?” She asked, diverting the conversation so your lascivious eyes wouldn't attack again. It's not that you didn't want to, your body was simply too tired to repeat... At least at that moment, there was a whole day ahead.

“I thought you wanted to go for a walk,” you joked, nudging her, to which she laughed again, making a funny face.

“I don't think I can walk more than five minutes, (Y/N)... I think, I think we could work on the dolls.”

“What you don't want is for me to attack you again, huh?” You asked mockingly, joking, of course. Joking, right?

“Well, that too,” she teased, gently pinching your chin and kissing your cheek lovingly, pulling away before you could make another move.

“I couldn't even if I wanted to,” you admitted, with a sigh, controlling the trembling of your legs. “Look at my legs, they look like jelly.”

Donna looked at you amused, and she shook her head at that comparison, suddenly putting on a serious face.

“I mention the dolls...” she whispered, thinking about something.

“It's true, where is Angie?” You asked, alarmed by the missing puppet, which should already be bothering you.

“I'm up here, you stupid clings! Whenever you want, you can stop making babies and come here to pay me some attention! You stupid morons!”

“Oh...” You sighed, embarrassed. “Do you think she is angry?”

[marchsfreakshow]

Desperate Pain [James Patrick March]

Uhh,,,,idk this time lol

James saw someone flirt with you. He thinks that since you looked at the man, you were flirting back.

Idk what this is but @coentinim gave me the idea. With some things from @briaroftheroses too<33

18+!! Just because. MINORS DNI.

No one's perspective

⊹˚.⋆ ₊꒷ᘏᘏ︶ଓ︶꒷꒦⊹˚ᗢ₊꒷︶ଓ︶꒷

Hands desperately tugging behind your back, despite being tied up strongly. And little pleas, crys and whimpers escaping you. "please James, i didn't even say anything to him.."

Oh no, that's not good enough though is it? He's not giving into your desperate cries. Instead he's carrying on his job, making sure this absolutely dreadful man knows what he's done to you. "You see, this, beautiful angel, is in fact, mine." The words beautiful angel dripped with exaggeration, but you knew it to be true. James was simply obsessed with you and your beauty.

The man, simply just asked if you were single and how a pretty thing like you was sat alone at a bar. All you did was look at him! You shot him one single look. A deadpan, neutral face. Now he was pathetically crying, yelling out. His fat being cut, his hands being burned to a crisp.

James knew he couldn't have that. He couldn't have you away from him. You even acknowledged this desperate man? Such a harlot. Do you even love James? Do you even want to keep your promise of being his? He's asking these questions quietly to the half dead, man holding up a knife to the idiot's cock. Just a little cut wouldn't hurt. One slice through the middle. So he really wouldn't hurt your precious cunt. That was his property, only for him to ruin and destroy.

"see what you've done my pretty little harlot? You hurt me so dear." Another desperate whimper left you as he dragged the used knife under your chin. Watery and begging eyes up at him, just wanting to apologise. Such an adorable sight weren't you? Squirming around on the bed as your legs and arms were bound by his bloodied ropes, just wanting to get up and stop James. "I don't think it's fair that he gets it all and you get away free hm?" Oh no. What was it he was planning? Whatever it was, tears were threatening to escape you, making your vision blurred.

James chuckled as he watched you move around on the edge of the bed. "I will not be touching you, anywhere until you have learned your lesson." He whispered right by your ear, even refraining from lightly tracing that cute jaw of yours. "Find other means of pleasure until I say so my dear." You suppressed a sad groan. Your own pleasure was the worst. How on earth could you do that when James can fuck you so good at a moments notice? He'd drop anything if you were desperate enough.

A whimper escaped the two of you out of the seemingly, erotic, eye contact. James' head whipped around to flirting man.

Shot after shot. Bang after bang. Two holes now in the half dead man's heart. If he wasn't dead before, he was dead now. Back to your crying face. The bloody knife still in hand. "how else to make you learn your lesson?" He questioned rehtorically. If it was up to you, you'd let him fuck the idea into your empty head. Getting it through that small, thoughtless head of yours that you. Are. His. Forever.

So, your trousers were ripped off. Discarded on the floor somewhere, and a warm breath on your thighs. He was just torturing a man, why were you so turned on? "Ow..ow, fuck!" You squealed. James' bloody knife in your inner thigh, carving his initials. A raggedy 'JPM' as a way to mark his property. Drops of blood trickling down your thigh, onto the bed. It took every ounce of self control in the ghostly killer to not lick up the irony tasting liquid. He had to keep to his promise. Not touching you, not for a while anyway. So he left it to bleed.

Leaving it to bleed as he worked his way up to your exposed, veiny neck. A J there, P right in the middle and a sweet little M to finish the job. No one could deny that you were his now.

"There. Now, you. Are. Mine. Dangerous bird aren't you?" He chuckled at your dying body. You'd come crawling as a ghost, so he knew not to be upset.

⊹˚.⋆ ₊꒷ᘏᘏ︶ଓ︶꒷꒦⊹˚ᗢ₊꒷︶ଓ︶꒷

[bananawafers]

heyyyy

kuroo drunk kissing you at your house? (lip biting and sucking and AARRRGGHHHH)

no smut please!! just make it a steamy session of making out!!! like REAL REAL STEAM! (idk how to express it lol)

thanks in advance !! take care <33333

I love this idea! I hope you don’t mind I had to switch up the setting a bit to match the storyline :)

The Wedding Guest - Kuroo Tetsuro x Fem! Reader

Today’s date has been marked on your calendar for months. It’s your childhood friend’s wedding day, and you couldn't be happier to be there on her special day.

As you settle into your seat at the winter wedding, you can’t help but feel a sense of awe at the stunning scenery unfolding before you. The candle-lit indoor venue, with its panoramic glass windows offering a view of the snow-covered mountains bathed in the soft hues of the setting sun, is nothing short of breathtaking. You’re so mesmerized by the beauty of the moment that you fail to notice the tall dark haired man settling into the seat beside you.

“Quite the view, isn’t it?” He remarks, jolting you from your thoughts. You turn to him, and you’re caught off guard by his appearance. He has captivatingly sharp features, broad shoulders and a tall frame. His eyes are so dark they could peer into your soul, and you can’t help but note how clean he smells. You suddenly become embarrassingly aware of his proximity to you.

“It’s stunning.” You utter in response, and he nods.

“So, what’s your connection to the happy couple?” He asks.

“I’m a friend of the bride’s. You?”

“The groom happens to be a relative of mine.” He replies. You open your mouth to ask him his name, but before you can utter a word, the room falls silent and the officiant steps forward. The gentle rumble of voices dies down and all eyes turn to the front of the room. You close your mouth, the question left unspoken.

As if he could read your mind, he leans close to you. “It’s Kuroo, by the way.” He whispers. “And you?”

You curse the heat rising to your cheeks at his confidence. “Y/n.” You reply quietly. He hums in acknowledgment, before returning his attention to the ceremony.

•••

As the ceremony concludes, guests begin to filter out of the venue and make their way to the reception area. You linger for a moment, taking in the joyful atmosphere and the sight of the newly married couple exchanging kisses and laughter.

You look away in time to catch Kuroo’s gaze from across the room as he’s caught amidst a conversation with a few other guests. You smile and offer a half-hearted wave. To your bewilderment, he appears to mutter a goodbye to the other guests and begins to make his away across the room to you.

“Long time no see.” You joke when he reaches you.

He huffs a laugh. “Enjoying the festivities?"

You nod, a playful twinkle in your eye. "As much as one can in these uncomfortable clothes," you remark, gesturing to your dress.

Kuroo laughs, a knowing look in his eye. "Tell me about it," he said, shifting on his feet. "These shoes are killing me. I can't wait to get out of them."

You nodded in agreement. "I'd give anything to trade places with you," you say with a smirk. "At least you have the option to take them off."

For a brief moment, Kuroo hesitates at your comment, as if contemplating something. Then, he cracks a smile. "You have a point," he concedes.

Before you can continue your conversation, the groom approaches with mischievous grin on his face. "Kuroo! You have to come join me for a drink," he exclaimed, slinging an arm around Kuroo's shoulder.

Kuroo glances back at you, a silent apology in his eyes, before allowing himself to be dragged away by the groom.

•••

As the reception winds down, you find yourself at the bar, sipping on a glass of champagne as you watch the remaining guests mingle. You lean against the counter, lost in thought, when a familiar figure sidles up beside you.

You turn to find Kuroo, looking slightly disheveled and very clearly drunk. A playful grin spreads across his face as he leans in close to you. "Hey there, fancy feet," (sorry) he slurs, gesturing vaguely toward the dance floor. "I must say, you've got some unique dance moves."

You drag a hand across your face. “Oh god, you were watching me?”

“How could I not?” He teases.

“Someone’s had one too many drinks.” You utter sardonically. “Shouldn’t you be getting home?”

Kuroo blinks at you, momentarily puzzled. “Home?” He repeats, as if the concept is foreign to him. “Oh, right… I’m staying at a hotel down the street.”

You raise an eyebrow at him.

“Yeah, it’s… that way.” He says, pointing vaguely in one direction before changing his mind. “Actually, no… It’s that way.”

It’s frustratingly clear to you that he has no idea how to get home by himself. You hesitate for a moment, weighing your options, before making a decision. “You know what?” You say, placing a hand on his arm. “I’ll walk you to your hotel. It’s no trouble.”

He opens his mouth to protest, but you cut him off with a firm look. “No arguments.” You say firmly. “It’s late, and you’re in no condition to be wandering the streets alone. Come on, let’s get you back.”

With a resigned sigh, Kuroo accepts defeat, following you out of the venue into the cold winter air. As you walk together down the deserted streets, your amusement at the tipsy man stumbling beside you distracts you from the cold.

As you arrive at the hotel, you guide Kuroo up the steps and into the lobby. The dimly lit corridors feel like a maze as you make your way to his room, staggering as he leans heavily on you for support.

Finally, you reach his door, and you fumble with the keycard until the lock clicks open. You push the door open, revealing a cozy hotel room bathed in the soft glow of lamplight. The room is simple yet inviting, with a plush bed adorned with crisp white linens, a small desk tucked into one corner, and a large window offering what you assume to be a perfect view of the mountains in the daylight.

As you step inside, you let out a sigh of relief at the warmth of the room. Kuroo walks past you and sinks into the bed, and you kick off your heels to sit beside him. The mattress dips under your weight, and you allow yourself to sit in silence for a moment.

As you unwind, you reach up to undo your hair from its uncomfortably tight updo. Your curls fall limply to your shoulders, now taking the form of soft waves. You suddenly feel Kuroo’s silent gaze on you, and your pulse quickens slightly at the intimacy of the situation.

“You know,” he says softly, his voice barely above a whisper, “I think I prefer your hair like that.”

His words hang in the ear, and your face begins to feel hot. You turn to face him, your heart pounding in your chest as he reaches to tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear. His touch is gentle, almost reverent, and you allow yourself to lean into it, your breath catching in your throat as his fingers brush against your skin.

Even though you can see it coming a mile away, it does nothing to calm your beating heart as he leans in closer, his lips meeting yours in a tentative kiss. At first it’s slow and gentle, a delicate exploration of each other’s lips as you find your rhythm. His mouth moves against yours in a way that feels almost practiced. Even in his drunken state, his precision sends shivers down your spine.

You let out a wanton sigh and finally melt into his kiss, your fingers tangling in his black hair as you pull him closer. He hums against you, taking your response as an invitation to add more pressure. His hands begin to roam freely over your body, tracing your curves with a reverence that makes your head spin. You return the gesture, your hands roaming across his chest, feeling the unsteady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath your touch.

The kiss grows more fervent now, as your bodies press closer together. It’s a desperate embrace; he kisses you with urgency, like he’s been starved. You have to part to catch your breath, and he wastes no time to litter your collarbone with love marks. He skillfully traces up to your sensitive pulse, where he lingers, his hot mouth drawing an involuntary gasp from you. Just as you begin to feel light headed, your phone starts to buzz in your purse.

The two of you are pulled from your reality, and you take a moment to breathe. You allow your gaze to focus on him, and in the dimly lit hotel room, his eyes somehow appear a shade darker. They flicker across your face as his breathing calms, and a crooked smirk spreads across his painfully handsome features.

“You’re almost as good at kissing as you are at dancing.”

You scoff before reaching up and yanking a piece of his hair, earning a playful wince from him as he draws away from you. You suddenly feel cold again as you shift to pull your phone out of your purse. You answer the call.

“Hello?”

“Y/n? We’ve been looking everywhere for you. We’re leaving, where are you?”

You immediately stand, cursing. “Sorry, I’ll be there in a few minutes!”

~~~

Thanks for reading! I know it was a bit of an abrupt ending and I could definitely still use some experience writing steamy scenes— but I hope this satisfies ;))

[xthescarletbitch]

Do take requests? If you're willing it'd be nice if you could write the ladies of bg3 on the recieving end of a strap on for us tops? It's hard to find content for us Minthara loving tops and I like your writing 😭. We're starving!!

i'm technically not taking requests for bg3 at the moment, but i couldn't resist. thank you so much for your kind words. i hope these are to your liking. <3

bg3 ladies receiving the strap (x reader)

18+, minors do NOT interact

cw: reader!giving strap-on

word count: 1700+

author’s note: i'm experimenting with formats at the moment, and i think this one is becoming a favourite (making it pretty is also a lot of work so i am refraining this time lol). also, i struggled with karlach's. i'm sorry in advance.

lae'zel

lae’zel generally likes to take your strap the same way she gives it: rough. on those occasions, she’ll urge you to pick up the pace and fuck her good, even wrapping her legs around you to pull you in deeper.  “say please,” you tease, showing her that you’re the one in control.  it’s a risky game to tease a githyanki, but you know that she’ll relent–you’re the one with the strap attached to your hips, after all. you have the option to give her exactly what she wants if she chooses to comply. “chk,” she grunts, going over the options in her head. as if deeming the circumstances worthy of this very rare word, she mutters under her breath: “please.” you slow down, getting a bit theatric with the next words that leave your mouth: “please, what?” you can see her expression go from one of frustration to one of desperation. she needs this. you smirk, knowing that she’ll give in. “please,” she pauses, astonished that she’s actually begging for something. “please fuck me harder.” your smirk grows as you lift one of her legs over your shoulder, picking up the pace and giving her exactly what she begged for. the erotic sounds leaving her mouth only prove that you’re doing an excellent job… that, and the claw marks on your hips. she’ll never speak a word of it to anyone, but lae’zel also enjoys the slower, more passionate episodes of sex. she relishes in the moments of your bodies slowly grinding together, a pool of sweat shared between the two, your heartbeats in sync as the tempo remains consistently moderate. she wants her hands in yours as you stare deeply into her eyes, giving her the kind of strokes that make them roll back. words of affirmation are definitely welcomed here–she likes to hear that she’s taking you so well.  lae’zel isn’t satisfied until she has came at least three times from your strap. she wants to be soaked in sweat, covered in marks, and out of breath by the time you’re done. it takes a lot to tire this githyanki out, but she makes it so worth it with her beautiful reactions. when she reaches that final orgasm–when she can’t possibly take it anymore–she’ll grip your shoulders with a passion, pulling you close to her, groaning in your ear as she is taken over that edge. her legs will shake before giving out under you as the mess between her legs gets all over her thighs.

minthara

minthara makes it clear that you should earn the right to fuck her with the strap, turning it into a little game. the little game usually involves you eating her out until she’s wet enough to take you. what she won’t tell you is that the end result will always be the same: she’ll gladly let you take the lead. while she does love topping you on multiple occasions, she also enjoys it the other way around. she can’t help the small smile that comes across her face when you offer to top her. she’ll stand there envisioning the scene in front of her, hoping you take no mercy on her.  it should be said that she won’t be silent–and i mean that in terms of the sultry sounds coming from her mouth, as well as the string of commands that she’ll throw at you. it is really hard for her to just sit there and take it, and sometimes it becomes a game of power and control–one you’ll happily play. “faster,” she directs, grabbing hold of your hips and aiding you in doing so.  it is at that moment that you move your hands to be on top of hers, quickly grabbing and pinning them above her head. she’ll smirk and try to wiggle free, but you don’t allow her to. you make it clear that you’re the one calling the shots right now, not her. she loves the power struggle and won’t fight you too much. she’ll just note the incident for when she fucks you next. the struggle continues, and she loves every moment of it. sure, being in control is fun and standard for her, but there’s something exciting about letting another person take the reins. her favourite display of power on your part is when you tie her up or use other means to restrain her. she goes crazy for that. cast a spell to have her stay in place as you pound into her pretty pussy and just wait for her to give up completely.  “that’s it,” you tell her, admiring the sight below. “you take me so well.” she looks so good under you, a sentiment you remind her of constantly. she’ll smirk and hide her embarrassment by assuring you that she fucks you better–urging competition… and well, you opt to change her opinion on that, giving her more of what she wants. never will you see those cheeks blush, but you know in the other ways her body reacts to you that you’re hitting all the right spots.

shadowheart

shadowheart gets very playful when taking the strap–a display that drives you crazy (in a good way). when you’re fucking her good, her moans will be unapologetically loud. she doesn’t care who might hear; she’s doing it. her face will twist in pleasure as you hit her g-spot, followed by a chant of your name. and she does all of this as erotically as she can, knowing that it’ll only entice you to give her more. there are also moments where she’ll get embarrassed easily, depending on her mood, but she’ll enjoy it all the same. you have to tease her about it, though. a little humiliation here and there never hurt anybody, right? if she’s trying to be inconspicuous about how much pleasure she’s in, she’ll cover her mouth and/or face. she wants you to play along.  “no,” you say, grabbing her hands and pinning them to the bed. “i want it all.” her cheeks flush a bright pink as she attempts to wiggle free of your grip, but she can never quite do so. you take the time to pull out of her slowly, looking down to see the strings of wetness connecting her pussy and your strap. she follows your eyes, taking in the sight before her. a small groan escapes her lips, but is quickly interrupted when you slam the strap back inside of her. she throws her head back and moans loudly, giving you just what you wanted. she likes it when you’re a bit rough, after all. be prepared for a game of her testing just how rough you can be with her. she will savour it all. when she feels herself getting close to her climax, shadowheart will grab your face and drag it down to hers, crashing her lips against yours with fervour. she takes your bottom lip between her teeth, applying more pressure the deeper you get. she releases it when she’s really close, her incessant moans escaping into your mouth. with each brush of the strap against her g-spot, she holds onto you tighter. she wants you as close to her as you possibly can when she cums all over your strap. body worship is also a must when she’s being fucked by you. admire her out loud and allow your hands to roam her body. call her a good girl, and tell her that she’s doing a great job. she’ll get much wetter for you anytime words like that come from your mouth. she wants to feel sexy and adored (which is easy when she’s with you).

karlach

karlach will ride you anyday, anywhere. she loves the feeling of how deep you are inside of her as she bounces on your strap, her hands on your abdomen to hold herself up. she also enjoys the extra stimulation of your hand strumming her clit, inching her closer and closer to her orgasm (one of many).  she’ll take you in various ways. aside from riding you, karlach really has no preference. she just likes each session to be as passionate as possible. she shows a lot of her love physically, and wants to be shown the same. she wants your hands on her as much as the situation allows. the feeling of your skin against her own just makes her feral. she can never quite consume you as much as she wants to, though. being able to give up control and be vulnerable with another person is big for karlach. luckily, it’s so easy with you. she’ll let you do whatever you want with her, happily taking all that you give her. she takes it like a champ, too. remind her of that. you’ll hear karlach curse a lot during sex. she struggles to find the words to describe how she really feels, so a string of profanities will escape her mouth at any given point. “fuck,”she moans when the strap continuously brushes against her g-spot. “oh my fucking gods.” her head will be thrown back, her hands squeezing whatever is beneath her to keep her grounded in this plane of existence. she’ll beg for more, asking you to go deeper inside her.  “please,” she pleads. “i need more.” and more you give her, without any hesitation. you like to admire the way her face contorts every time you bottom out inside of her, resting there for a moment (at her request) before pulling back out and repeating the process.  clitoral stimulation is also big for her, as hinted at before. if your hand isn’t on her clit, hers will be. she’ll rub circles as you thrust into her, moaning at the sensation she feels when her fingertips brush against the strap.  karlach also likes to watch all that’s going on. she’ll angle herself in a way to see the strap go in and out of her, feeling herself grow wetter at the sight. a moan or two may also escape her mouth.  and when she cums, she cums hard. she grips you tightly as her pussy clenches around the strap, wanting you to stay inside her as she goes over that peak. she’ll recover quickly before asking for more.

[thursdaygxrls]

Seeing Him (‘Seeing Her’ Part Three)

summary — george weasley is very bad at getting a girlfriend.

paring — george weasley x fem!bookworm!reader

disclaimer — i do not own harry potter or its characters.

warnings — i didn’t edit, my bad lol. also i inserted wuthering heights a little too much (by the way you should read wuthering heights)

read part one and part two!

“You are repulsive.” The words left her mouth bitterly as she stared at him, her eyes narrowed.

“Woah!” He exclaimed, his eyes widening, “I’m sorry—it just wasn’t my thing!”

“Frankenstein is everyone’s thing!” She fired back, though, a small grin cracked on her face, “You are a waste of perfectly good eyes, you know that?”

“You like my eyes?” He wiggled his eyebrows, a smirk lighting up on his face.

When George Weasley had taken out the girl he’d long been staring at, a stroll through the book store turned to hours of talking, and one date turned to three. It was so natural, and yet, so odd. A girl who’s presence was only marked by the books she read and a boy who’s troublemaking reputation surpassed that of many fictional characters had somehow found harmony between fantasy and reality. Well, most of the time.

“I meant that your eyes are perfectly capable of seeing and consuming beautiful literature, yet you’re squandering it.” She huffed at him, though, the smile on her lips was obvious.

“Beautiful literature and beautiful ladies,” George spoke, still smirking, “And I’m using up all that eyesight power by staring at you.”

“Horrible boy,” she scoffed, the grin still on her lips.

“Beautiful girl,” George replied, his eyes dancing across her face.

Whatever had bloomed between the two had proved strange to almost every other student at Hogwarts. It wasn't as if people shouted or stared when they saw them walking together in the halls, but there was the occasionally lingering look that said 'huh, I wouldn't have put those two together.' It was especially odd that a known flirt had seemed to retire his previous career. George, who'd always been one to chat up a new girl each week, was now only seen with the same girl day after day. If that hadn't been enough to set off a few social alarms throughout the school, a few students had even seen George reading — and not just dirty magazines.

"Things seem to be getting pretty serious," Fred chuckled as he talked. He and George had just gotten out of detention and were headed through the halls towards the Gryffindor common room.

"I'd say that was rather normal." George shrugged, "Flitwick snored just as much as usual."

"Not detention, you git." Fred couldn't help it when another laugh left his lips, "Things are getting serious with your girl."

"Oh," George shook his head, a smile lighting up on his face, "Yeah, I guess."

"D'you make it official?" Fred nudged him, "Tie the noose around your neck? Connect the ball and chain?"

"Shove off," George groaned, nudging him back with a bit more force.

"Oh, come on, did you?" Fred sighed, relenting his antics for a moment. George looked at him, a sudden frown curling on his lips. He shook his head.

"No." He shrugged as though it didn't matter, "It's only been a couple dates."

"What?" Fred's eyes seemed to widen to the size of planets, "Only a couple dates? I've never seen you this gross and lovesick! She's got you reading those old muggle books for Merlin's sake!"

"I like to read," George spoke, lying straight through his teeth, "I'm a big reader."

"Yeah? And I think hours long Transfiguration lectures are riveting," Fred let out a dry laugh, "Listen, even if I find the puppy-eyes you give her disgusting, it's obvious you're head over arse for her."

Even if George wanted to retaliate, it was true. He walked her to class, insisted on carrying her things for her. He even read Pride and Prejudice to understand a joke she made once. He was enamored with her in a way only dead old ladies like Emily Brontë could describe.

"Yeah, I know," George let out a sigh, "Trust me, I know."

"Don't tell me you're nervous." Fred chuckled, a smile spreading on his lips, "I may be the more attractive twin, but you've still got a nice face on you. Give it a shot, alright?"

George groaned, but as they pushed past the portrait of the fat lady, he couldn't help but feel that Fred was right. Not about being the most attractive, of course; he was right about giving it a shot. And so he planned.

Plan A seemed nearly impossible to screw up. It was simple, really; he'd catch up with her on the way to breakfast like he always did, and ask her to be his girlfriend. No pomp and circumstance, no fanfare, just a quick question and a sweet smile. When the time finally came the next morning, he was so confident in himself that his toes were barely touching the ground. He left the common room with a skip in his step, ready to meet with her near the stairs where they always did. His eyes met hers.

She was lovely. She'd done nothing different; her hair was how it always had been, her smile was the same. Yet, when George saw her, it took all his willpower not keep his jaw from dropping to the ground.

"Ready for breakfast?" She asked, her voice like a serenade in his ears. His face reddened as he nodded, and he knew then that Plan A was impossible.

Plan B was much more exciting, yet, still simple. This time, he made sure that he'd have his words prepared for him so he didn't have to do any talking. Over the weekend, he'd picked up a rather nice copy of Wuthering Heights at the muggle book store in Hogsmeade. She'd been eyeing it for a while; he'd noticed her staring at it while telling him about another book. Along with the book, he wrote her a sweet (albeit grammatically poor and rather cheesy) note that ended with the question 'will you be my girlfriend?' He was going to slip it into the novel before he gave it to her. While walking from Charms to lunch, George couldn't quite contain his smile.

"Hey," he said as they exited the classroom, "I've got a surprise for you." "Oh?" She raised an eyebrow, her eyes glowing with anticipation. Without any further teasing, George slipped the novel out from between his stack of books and handed it to her, a proud grin on his face.

"Merlin!" She exclaimed as she exchanged her things for the book, "George, this is wonderful! I've been wanting to get this copy."

"I know," George spoke, trying not to look too adoring of her as he took her books into his hands, "Flip through, it might have an introduction or something." With a smile, she did as told, thumbing through the pages eagerly. George craned his neck, trying to see if she'd found the note nestled within the pages.

"Find anything good?" He sounded almost smug.

"Yeah," she said excitedly. Looking to George, the smile on her lips only spread wider. This was it. She was smiling, she was happy, she was going to say--

"There's a biographical notice of Ellis and Acton Bell in the front." Her gaze moved back to the book, "I told you about that, right? How the Brontes wrote under male pseudonyms? Well, Emily used Ellis. It looks quite interesting."

"Oh, yeah," George's face fell a bit, but he tried to hide it, "Is there, uh, anything else?"

"There's an editors note, too." She shrugged, but grinned at him, "Thanks, George, this is really incredible."

His mouth opened, the words on the tip of his tongue, when he froze. He'd woken up so excited that when he left his dorm, he'd snatched the book off his desk and ran down to the Great Hall. He'd never put the note in — it was still on his desk.

"No problem," he responded, a bit stunted, as he tried to swallow the frustration he felt with himself, "No problem at all."

Plan C had to work — it had to. The second he returned to his dorm later that afternoon, he threw the note in the trash and got right to work. If there was one thing George knew how to do, it was to go big. He could write out a sign in the sky using fireworks, or maybe hang a banner over the astronomy tower. Maybe a thousand flowers in her dorm would do. A giant cake that he pops out of could work.

As he collected his ideas, he couldn't help but feel that everything he thought of just wasn't right. He went through Plan C, Plan D, Plan E. Eventually, he had to start numbering his plans. As the sun dropped lower outside the castle, a huff left George's lips, catching the attention of Fred, who was laying against his bed, playing with some sort of puzzle contraption.

"What's got your knickers bunched?" Fred chuckled, sitting up to look at his brother.

"Every plan I try doesn't work," George shook his head, "I've been trying to ask her to be my girlfriend for days now."

"Fireworks?" Was Fred's immediate reaction.

"Thought about it. Not sure how much she'd like it." George shrugged in response.

"Oh, come on, everyone likes a bit of dramatics sometimes." Fred moved, sliding his legs off the bed to sit down on the edge.

"Yeah, I know, but this just feels different." George's nose scrunched, "I want to do something personal, y'know?" "Fireworks spelling out her name is personal." A smile crept onto Fred's lips.

"That's not what I mean." George slumped against his desk chair, letting out a dramatic groan. At that, Fred relented with a sigh.

"Did you ever try just asking her?" He asked, cocking his head.

"That was Plan A." George let out a long breath.

"Well, maybe just retry Plan A," Fred suggested with a shrug, "And just don't screw up whatever you screwed up before."

"I didn't screw anything up." George stuck his tongue out at his brother.

"Whatever you say." Fred grinned, and with that, he returned his attention to the contraption in his hands.

Retry Plan A. The thought stuck in George's head as he looked down at his desk. He had given up on it fairly quickly. She made him nervous — sure, he could flirt with her, but when it came to fessing up his actual feelings, he was at a loss. He ran a hand through his hair as he thought it over. Looking out the window, the near absence of the sun reminded him that it was time for dinner. She would be at dinner.

Without even a goodbye from Fred, George shot up, scrambling from the dorm, through the common room, and down the stairs. He hastily tried to fix his rushed appearance: he redid a few of the buttons on his shirt and combed his fingers through his hair (the mess was untamable). When he finally made it to the Great Hall, he was nearly out of breath. His eyes scanned the tables for her, and when he finally found her (laughing her head off about something with a boy that George was easily ten times more attractive than, in his opinion), he set off. His steps were heavy and confident, and when he reached her, he sat down right next to her, not even bothering to introduce his presence.

"Oh, hey!" Her eyes immediately lit up at the sight of him, "I was wondering where you've been."

"I'm right here." He grinned at her. Once more, his lips parted, ready to ask her the question. Will you be my girlfriend? Would you mind being my girlfriend? Please, my Queen, I will beg on my hands and knees for you to even consider being my—

"This is my boyfriend, George, the one I was talking about." She smiled kindly at the boy across from her, gesturing to the redhead next to her.

Boyfriend.

George's brain nearly short circuited at the word, his eyes going wide and lips curling into the largest grin anyone had ever seen.

"Boyfriend?" He repeated the word as though he'd just imagined it.

"Oh!" Her face twisted in horror, "I'm sorry, I guess I never really asked. It was an assumption, I guess." Before she could continue her apologies, George grabbed her by the shoulders, trying not to squeeze her to death.

"I have been trying to ask you to ask you to be my girlfriend for a week," He said, the smile never leaving his lips, "I tried to ask you in the morning, but you were too pretty, and then the book I gave you, I wrote this note that I was going to put in it but forgot—” The words rushed from his lips in quick succession, his cheeks rosy enough to match his hair.

"So," She cut him off, a small giggle leaving her lips, "You want to be my boyfriend?"

"For Merlin's sake, yes, yes I do!" He couldn't help the excited laugh that escaped him.

"Could I have my notes back now?" A voice spoke up, causing George to whip his head to its source.

"Oh, sorry Theo." She chuckled as she slid the boy his book, and he nodded, giving a quick wave as he stood and left.

"Well he's grumpy," George mused, turning back to her with the same smile he'd been wearing.

"Oh, that's just Theo." She shrugged, "He's always like that."

"Well, enough about him, we haven't talked about me nearly enough." George's eyes sparkled as he spoke.

"I feel like we talk about you far too much." She laughed back.

"Ah, but being your boyfriend obligates you to talk only about me for about ninety-eight percent of your time," he beamed.

"Does that mean I reserve ninety-eight percent of your thoughts, being your girlfriend and all?" She tilted her head.

"You reserve a lot more than ninety-eight percent of my thoughts, darling," he chuckled. When each of their laughter subsided, they stared at each other for a moment, content but unsure. Tentatively, George reached forward, his hand gently making contact with her cheek.

"So," his voice was a low whisper, "Since I'm your boyfriend, can I kiss you?" An even brighter smile lit up on her face, and she let out another small laugh.

"That can be arranged." She grinned. When George leaned in, so did she, and their lips met in gentle kiss. It was light and sweet, yet the undertone of excitement lingered as they pressed against each other. When they separated, a bit breathless, they gazed at each other a moment more. It was a tender stare that held something strong. Maybe it wasn't love just yet, but it was close. After all, he was seeing her, and she was seeing him.

Taglist — @noncorrected @dreary-daffodils @skivingsnackbox @ironnightnight @quionnia @superduckmilkshake @emilykolchivans @adhdduckie @aree-you-sirius-rn @anotherbookreader10235 @withered-rxse @eyebagsanonymous @wannabe-goblin-king @willowcho25518 @laryfairy @superstaarrs @cillshot @pirate-with-internet-connection @ireallywannasleep127

hope you guys liked the last part!! i’ll probably be doing some more george soon bc he’s 🤭🤭🤭 but besides that i’m working on an enemies to friends to lovers remus fic with a bit of angst and such. also i’m DEF making some sirius stuff soon bc he’s my number 1 🤭🤭

oh and btdubz, i’m gonna make a google thingy for my tag list. everyone who’s currently on it, you’ll still be there, but you can specify what type of content you’d like to read from me. okay, toodles!!