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incognit0slut · 10 months

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Right Kind of Wrong (17)

She never thought she’d be involved in a murder investigation and encounter her one-night-stand again, the awkward guy who isn’t exactly that good in bed—Or is he? Offended by the sentiment, Spencer is determined to prove her wrong… But as he gets tangled with the beautiful stranger, he realizes there is more to her than what meets the eye.

Part Summary: Spencer and Y/n try to outsmart the situation. wc: 3.5k Series Warnings: 18+ explicit content, graphic details of murders, mentions of suicide, mentions of SA A/n: this took longer because trying to come up with a climax scene was SO hard, I hope I did some justice here

Other parts: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16

HER BODY ACHED. Every muscle seemed to join a protest, sending out persistent signals of pain. The cold air seemed to snake through her limbs, and the chains that bound her wrist seemed to cut into her flesh. The bed underneath didn't do much to ease things—it was as stiff as a board, offering about as much comfort as the floor.

She wasn’t sure how long she had been here. It was likely no more than a week, but it felt like months. Maybe hunger messed with her head, making everything feel fuzzy. The lack of nutrition had her feeling delirious. For someone who claimed to be in love with her, Eric showed no mercy for her well-being.

Of course, he didn't, she thought, because there was no love in the first place, no genuine care, no honest affection—just an illusion crafted by his distorted mind.

Her eyes drifted shut, and a sigh escaped her lips. The air in the barn was thick, almost suffocating, with its heavy, musty scent. It offered no peace for her tonight—or was it already early morning? The darkness seemed to stretch endlessly, blurring the line between night and dawn.

But something felt different.

The atmosphere shifted abruptly, a quiet change that quickened her heart. The unmistakable sound of a vehicle reached her ears before it abruptly stopped on the other side of the wall. A car door creaked open, accompanied by distant voices. Then came the purposeful footsteps, growing louder with each step as they approached her.

The barn door groaned in protest, creaking open slowly, letting in a thin ray of dim light. Her breath caught as Eric stepped in. Yet, it wasn't his presence that shocked her; it was the man he dragged along, someone she least expected to see.

Her eyes widened. Spencer?

He was here. He was really here, right in the flesh, making it harder for her to breathe. Because he looked worlds apart from the last time she saw him—his shirt dirty, bruises marking his face, clear signs of whatever ordeal he'd been through. It also seemed like he hadn't slept for days. His eyes appeared hollow and vacant, yet as they met hers, she noticed a glimmer of relief.

Tears welled up in her eyes. All she wanted was to run into his arms, find comfort in his embrace, and let out the tears for everything that had gone wrong. But she couldn't do anything when she was bound with chains while his hands were tied behind his back. And as glad as she was to see him, it registered her to why he was even here. Anger suddenly flared through her body as she leveled her gaze on Eric with a glare.

"What the hell are you doing?"

He pushed Spencer forward, forcing him to stumble, landing him on his knees. "A little present for you," Eric taunted. "Aren't you glad to see him?"

Spencer looked at her with concern, his eyes slowly assessing every inch of body. His stomach churned when he took in how fragile she looked. She seemed so weak, so helpless, being held captive with those repulsive chains binding her wrist.

“Are you…” he muttered, his voice barely a whisper. “Are you okay?”

It was a dumb question. Of course she was far from being fine. But he had to say it, he needed to interact with her to make sure she understood how much it pained to see her like this.

But before she could respond to him, Eric noticed the interaction and pulled out a knife. Her heart pounded in her chest as she watched him circle Spencer, the glint of the blade caught in the dim light, sending a chill through the air.

The cold steel of the knife traced sinister patterns in the air, and she couldn't tear her eyes away from the dangerous dance. "What do you want?" she demanded, her voice shaking but defiant. "Let him go. This has nothing to do with him."

Eric chuckled and shook his head. "Oh, but it does. He's hurt you, and I need to do something about it."

"Eric, please," she pleaded. "You don't need to do this."

He ignored her pleas and narrowed his eyes on Spencer. "What do you think, Dr. Reid? Should I let you go? Let you free while I'm left alone with her, doing anything that I please." Spencer glared at him and Eric's smile grew wider. "That's what I thought."

He started pacing between them again, casually playing with the knife in his hands. "You know, I usually kill my victims before I write anything on their bodies, but tonight I'm making an exception." His eyes glazed over to her. "I think it'll be fun to do the other way around."

The ominous threat hung heavy in the air, and her heart pounded wildly in her chest. Spencer's eyes flashed with defiance, though his bound hands limited his ability to physically intervene. She locked eyes with him. They both knew the odds were stacked against them.

“You don't have to do this,” she begged once more, desperation lacing her voice.

"But I do Sweetheart, I really do." He focused his attention back on Spencer. "Now, what do you reckon I should choose for you, Dr. Reid?"

Eric continued to circle, a predator reveling in the vulnerability of his prey. "What do you think of Proverbs 11:21?” He spread his hands out as if he was imagining the words were written in the sky. “'Be sure of this: The wicked will not go unpunished, but those who are righteous will go free'."

When he was met with silence, he approached Spencer with a menacing glint in his eye. "No? How about Proverbs 21:15 then? 'When justice is done, it brings joy to the righteous but terror to evildoers.'"

Spencer finally looked up and retorted, "Justice isn't about inflicting pain for the sake of satisfaction."

Eric glared back with a sadistic resolve. "The only way to cleanse the evil here is through suffering. Proverbs speaks the truth, whether you like it or not."

At that moment, Spencer's mind suddenly shifted gears, deciding to try a different approach. His narrowed eyes showed he was honing in, not just reacting but strategizing. He was about to do what he did best—understand people, especially those on the brink. Instead of just reacting to the danger, he aimed to get inside Eric's head. He wanted to observe Eric with an intensity that went beyond the immediate threat.

"You're a smart man, Eric,” he started, his tone measured and analytical. “I can see that you've been through a lot, maybe more than most. I don't think this is about justice anymore.”

He noticed Eric stopping from his casual pace around the narrowed space, and Spencer continued. “It seems like you want to reverse the roles. To be the one inflicting pain instead of receiving it."

Eric, though still wearing a facade of defiance, couldn't completely mask the flicker of unease that danced in his eyes. Spencer's words seemed to hit a nerve.

"What do you even know about my past?" He retorted, a hint of vulnerability seeping into his voice.

Spencer, maintaining his calm and analytical demeanor, continued his probing. "I don't need to know the specifics to recognize the signs. People who inflict pain are often trying to regain control over a part of their lives where they feel helpless."

Eric's grip on the knife tightened, his jaw clenching. "You're making assumptions, Dr. Reid. You don't know anything about what I've been through.”

Spencer met his gaze evenly. "I actually do, Eric," He paused, letting the words linger in the air. "Or should I call you Henry?"

The name hung in the air, a heavy silence enveloping the barn. Y/n’s eyes darted between the two men, her confusion mirrored in the furrow of her brow. Henry? His real name was Henry?

"Henry Wyatt," Spencer continued. "Troubled childhood, juvenile records. You changed your name and tried to leave the past behind."

There was a moment of silence as if Eric was weighing his next words. "I no longer associate with that name," he finally insisted, the defiance in his voice trying to mask the vulnerability that lingered beneath the surface.

"I don't think so,” Spencer remarked. “You're still him despite having a different life now. Your current action shows how you're still bound by the past."

Eric vehemently shook his head. "No."

"Your attempt to leave it behind is what brought us here."

"No," Eric shot back, frustration lacing his voice. “You’re wrong.”

"Your sense of betrayal is the root of your actions," He pressed. "Are you deeply hurt by Oliver that you seek revenge this far?"

A growl rumbled in Eric's throat, the grip on the knife tightening. "You have no right to bring that up," he spat out.

"I do, because I want you to realize that your need for revenge is a sign of weakness," Spencer continued with a calculated intensity, his words aimed at striking a nerve. "Not strength."

Eric shot a fierce glare at Spencer as his frustration reached a crescendo. "You know nothing about me. Don't pretend to understand."

"I do understand that inflicting pain won't change anything." His words hung in the air, a challenge that dared Eric to confront the truth.

The subtle tremors of Eric's clenched fists betrayed the storm within him. The knife, once held with purpose, now seemed almost precarious in his grip. Spencer's next move was strategic, pressing on despite the mounting tension. "Romans 12:21—Do not be overcome by evil, but overcome evil with good."

Eric's anger boiled over. "Stop talking."

But Spencer saw an opening and seized it. "Hurting others won't bring you the closure you seek."

"I said," Eric snarled, his patience wearing thin. "Stop. Talking."

"Ask yourself, Henry," Spencer goaded, deliberately emphasizing the name. "Is this really about justice, or is it about masking the pain you refuse to confront?"

"Fucking shut up!"

Eric's outburst reverberated through the barn as he grabbed onto the only source of lighting, an old lamp sitting on a nearby crate. He smashed it onto the floor towards Spencer, the crash of the lamp echoing like a gunshot.

Fragments of glass sprayed across the floor, some landing dangerously close to his knees as the room dimmed further, the broken lamp's feeble glow casting eerie shadows on the walls.

"You thought you could defy me?" Eric seethed, his voice low and menacing, closing the gap between them. "You're fucking wrong."

With a sudden, swift motion, Eric brought the knife dangerously close to Spencer's face. Y/n’s mind raced. She couldn't let Spencer get hurt. She had to do something, anything, to protect him.

"S-Stop!" she stammered, trying to intervene. The chains rattled as she tried to move. But Eric kept going, and she tried again with a desperate plea.

“Eric! Look at me! Please!” She begged. “I-I'll do anything!"

There was a slight halt in his steps. "What?" Eric paused.

"What are you doing?" Spencer's voice filled the air.

She glanced over to him, prepared to see the panic in his eyes. But despite the concern in his voice, he responded to her gaze with a silent plea, as if urging her to keep going.

He was onto something; she was sure of it, even if she wasn't sure of whatever plan he had in mind. She could tell by the slight shift in his demeanor before he quickly looked away. She sent him an understanding nod and redirected her attention to Eric, who was slowly turning toward her, oblivious of their interaction.

"I-I'll do anything you want," she repeated her words.

A sinister smile played on Eric's lips. "Really? Anything?" he taunted, a cruel glint in his eyes as he considered her offer.

"Yes, just—please, let him go.”

Eric's gaze shifted between her and Spencer, contemplating the power he held at that moment. "You'll do anything to save him?"

Her nod was hesitant but determined.

Eric's eyes gleamed with a malicious delight as he absorbed her desperation. "Anything, you say? That's quite a tempting offer."

"Just tell me what you want," she pressed, her voice quivering. "I'll do it, but you let him go. He doesn't need to be a part of this."

A wicked grin etched itself on his face. "Oh, it's not that simple, Sweetheart. You see, actions speak louder than words. I need a demonstration of your commitment."

Her mind raced, searching for a way to navigate through the situation. "Tell me what you want me to do," she pleaded, her eyes pleading for mercy.

He bent down and picked a shard of glass from the broken lamp scattered on the floor before throwing it to her feet.

"First, you're going to have to convince me that you're willing to endure pain for his sake." Eric gestured toward Spencer with the knife. "Hurt yourself, and maybe, maybe, I'll consider releasing him."

A chill ran down her spine as she comprehended his twisted demand. She shot a quick glance at Spencer. He met her eyes with a subtle nod, indicating that he was ready to seize the opportunity when it presented itself.

As Eric watched her, a maniacal excitement burning in his eyes, she knew she had to play along, at least for now. With trembling hands, she reached for the shard of glass, but she hesitated for a moment.

"Come on," Eric urged, the sadistic anticipation evident in his voice. "Prove your devotion."

Summoning every ounce of courage, she finally pressed the glass against her palm, wincing as it broke the skin. A suppressed gasp escaped her lips, but she fought to maintain a facade of resolve.

"Now, that's dedication," Eric mused, enjoying the spectacle of her distress. "But we're not done yet. I want more."

She fought back the nausea, the pain in her skin throbbing with each heartbeat. With a deep breath, she tightened her grip on the glass shard, her hands trembling as she looked up at Eric.

"What more do you want?" she demanded, desperation still present in her voice.

His eyes glinted with sadistic pleasure. "Cut deeper. Prove to me that you're willing to sacrifice for him."

Spencer's eyes widened in silent horror, but she shot him a reassuring glance. The shard pressed against her skin once again, but this time, she hesitated. The internal struggle was evident on her face.

"Do it!" Eric barked, reveling in his perceived triumph.

With a swift motion, she sliced the glass across her skin again, the pain intensifying. A muffled cry escaped her lips as she felt warmth seeping through her fingers.

"That's more like it," Eric praised, his eyes gleaming with madness. "Now, drop the glass."

She complied, releasing the shard to the floor with a gasp, her eyes never leaving Eric's. The room felt heavy with tension as he considered his next move.

"Now tell me you regret nothing, that you'd do it all over again for him," Eric demanded, the twisted satisfaction evident in his tone.

In a desperate attempt to stall him and buy time, she played into his game. "I regret nothing," she forced the words out, her voice steady despite the pain and fear. "I'd do anything for him."

Eric's triumphant grin faltered for a moment as if he expected her to break. But then, a cruel glint returned to his eyes. "Well, well, well. Seems like we have a devoted lover here.” A chuckle followed through. “But the night is still young."

A chilling silence took place as Eric continued to stare at her, his eyes traveling the line of blood dripping down her skin. His gaze traveled upwards to her shaking body before it settled on her pleading gaze. A sinister smile took hold of his face and she shivered at the sight.

"You know," he began, taking a step forward. "You look rather tempting covered in blood."

Her skin crawled at his words, and she fought to maintain a façade of compliance. The barn seemed to shrink around her as Eric advanced, his eyes fixated on her like a predator closing in on its prey.

"Look at you, all frightened and desperate." Eric continued, walking closer to her. "I'd say you're quite adorable now."

Every step he took sent a chill down her spine. Eric's sinister smile widened as he reveled in her discomfort. "You thought you could outsmart me, didn't you?" he sneered. "But here we are, and you're at my mercy."

In response, she swallowed her fear and shot back, "Your twisted games won't break me. I-I won't let you win."

His laughter echoed through the barn, a haunting sound that seemed to reverberate within the walls. "Oh, I'm afraid you've already lost, Sweetheart."

Her stomach dropped when she saw him unbuckling his belt with his free hand, the sound of its clinking metal echoed through the suffocating silence. Fear gripped her as Eric's intentions became painfully clear. She struggled against her restraints, her mind racing for a way out of this nightmare. "Y-You promised to let him go," she pleaded, her voice shaking.

"I said I'll consider releasing him," he corrected her. "And right now I'm considering giving him a show."

She felt a wave of nausea and revulsion. Fear clutched at her chest, threatening to overwhelm her. Every inch of her body ached, both from the physical torment and the psychological torture. The chains that bound her seemed tighter, cutting into her wrists.

"You'd like that, wouldn't you?" He taunted. "You'd let me use you while he watches how good I can make you feel."

He unzipped his pants.

“How you’d be screaming my name,” he grinned. “Secretly begging for more.”

His looming figure cast a shadow over her, his attention remained fixated on her. He was too focused on her that he didn't notice Spencer's stealthy movement behind him, and just as she braced herself for the worst, the unexpected happened.

"What do you think, Spencer? Let me—"

A sudden shot echoed in the room. The deafening sound rang through the barn, causing a momentary freeze in the air. Her eyes widened, pupils dilating in shock, as she watched a dark stain spread across Eric's shirt before he crumpled to the ground.

The gunshot rang in her ears and she blinked her eyes, trying to focus her attention on her surroundings. Then Spencer took over her line of sight, sitting on the floor with one leg stretched out. The time she had bid managed to help him escape from his restraints.

Her gaze then shifted to the subtle holster snug in his sock, revealing the hidden firearm he was carrying all along. Her eyes met his, his expression a blend of exhaustion and concern, and a heavy breath escaped him as he slowly lowered the gun.

Tears welled up in her eyes, blurring her vision. The weight of the situation hung in the air, and she couldn't find words to express the whirlwind of emotions coursing through her. The fear, the desperation, the relief—they were all tangled together. It was like a tornado had torn through, leaving her standing in the aftermath.

Spencer moved on instinct. Without saying a word, he stumbled towards her, sinking right on the mattress as he reached for her face. His hands were warm against her cold cheeks, and his eyes held a depth of regret as she stared into them.

"I'm sorry," was the first thing he said as he held her gaze. When the first cry escaped her lips, a raw and unfiltered release of the pent-up anguish, he pulled her into his arms without hesitation. Her wails echoed in the hollow space of the barn as he held her close and continued to utter his apology like a desperate prayer.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he choked, his voice sounding strained. "I'm so sorry."

Her sobs vibrated against his chest. She clung to him, her fingers gripping the fabric of his shirt, her blood staining the material. The scent of hay and the earthy musk of the barn intertwined with the warmth of his presence.

"S-Spence.." she murmured, her voice a mere whisper.

"Shh, I've got you." Spencer continued to cradle her, his lips pressed gently against the top of her head. His fingers traced soothing circles on her back. "It's over. I'm right here."

Between her cries, she managed to nod, clinging to him as if her life depended on it. And maybe it did. She wasn't sure she could function properly without his presence. So she focused solely on him—the rise and fall of his chest, the soft beating of his heart against her cheek. She shut out everything around her, not even bothering to ask how the authorities knew their location when she heard a faint siren coming from the distance.

The sound of people entering the barn didn't even faze her moments later. Or the way someone came up to them, insisting the two for a medical check. Instead, she shook her head and tightened her grip, and Spencer reassured the medics they’d come to them in a while.

Time seemed to stop at that moment as she pressed herself further into his arms. The world outside could wait, but for now, all that mattered was him.

>> NEXT PART

a/n: his escape scene is kind of a nod to that truth and dare episode, idk i felt like putting it into the plot :D

taglist #1

@tereresrock @casthings @vader-is-hot @maevethelesbian @whereintheworldisspencerreid @reidverseq @niyahwhoreworld @l4venderia @theintrovertedthespian @lovelyxtom @tayzerr-72 @mulbsstuff @dorothleah @stevenknightmarc @prettyboyspenceee @gracesmusings @kalulakunundrum @fearlessmoony @r5court @simp4f1 @thecrazytealady @nyeddleblog @ghostheartbeat @comfortzonequeen @iiheartbowie @busy-buzzing @imtherealslimmoony @baeofevery @elamultistan @lyxennz @additi @donttrustlove @notahappystan @daisiesfor-mylove @pinkpantheris @jamieeboulos @thegeniusreider @bxtchopolis @kr-1-sta @emotionalsassqueen

@cowstealer427 @thollandsdarling @ghxst-heart @cashtons-wife @kyuupidwrites @you-sunshine @comboboo @sebastiansstanswhore @panic-monster @marimorena06 @alice-ace299 @uncle-eggy @bollzinurmouth @julezs-bl0g @ruhrohragu @eternally-passionate @kazuumii @spencerr3idd @withered-rxse @broken-pieces @siredtomsgilbert @kaiya3333 @furiousbanditnickelknight @pinkangelavenue @slay-and-gay @woahnotmecryingoverafanfiction @zeysartzone @frxcless @sadroses98 @luvmgg @sky2nd @jamiemuscatosslut @rorylover71 @comeonatmebruh

PLEASE READ: If you already asked me to be added but you're not on the list OR you want to be added in the future, please comment on this post so I can see it. But make sure your blog can be searched or I can't tag you. Or if you want to be removed you can also tell me. Thank you :)

Don’t forget to interact with the story!

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eundiarys · 2 years

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OMG, kang taehyun

pairing : kang taehyun x fem!reader

genre : fluff, angst, crack, idol!au, fake dating au.

inspired by : OMG by newjeans (one line. but still), and my delusions

summary : in which — yn who just debuted gets into a dating scandal with one of the most famous group members because of a misunderstanding and is forced to fake date with him. what happens if it isn’t as bad as she thinks? and and what if she finds comfort with him? (❗️ — dia’s jueun is used to potray yn! )

notes : this is a plot that was literally inspired by the line (They keep on asking me, "Who is he?"). i waited for awhile to fully think of a proper plot and here it is! hope u enjoy <3

STATUS / completed ( taglist is now closed )

UPDATE -> if you enjoyed this and also like enhypen, im writing an enhypen version of this smau and ynhyun will be featured in some chapters there :) click here to check it out~

CHAPTERS & PROFILES !

(newjeans) . (txt) . preview #1 . preview #2

01. guys what if we flop :/ 02. sweet stranger 03. DEBUTATION! 04. its been 4 days. 05. giggles cackles 06. bangs head on wall 07. inspo mark lee 08. dispatch please be serious 09. what are the chances 10. ynhyun_OUT! 11. controversy 12. twenty questions? 13. detective hyuka 14. i love sza yass 15. i hate love 16. last date 17. i be in situations 18. my jobless era 19. all too well 20. ur a menace 21. this is cruel 22. idiots (in love) 23. CHEATER!! 24. my boyfren

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shanastoryteller · 1 year

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Happy pride!!

Fem MXY WWX pls!!!

a continuation of 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 32 33 34 35 36 37 38 39 40 41

They're back to riding, only a couple hours away from Jin Tower, and Wei Wuxian is happy to be off his feet, but he can't even focus on that.

He's too busy feeling desperately sad for Mo Xuanyu.

She lived as a pauper in a family that despised her, had a father that ignored her, was so lonely that she named her sword Friend, and killed herself rather than marry Lan Zhan.

Lan Zhan would have been nice to her. It took him a while to warm up, but he's trying now, to do his duty as a proper husband. Which is inconvenient for Wei Wuxian, but probably would have meant the world to Mo Xuanyu.

She didn't have to die. If she'd been able to hold onto hope for just a few more days, instead of giving in to revenge and despair, then she could have lived out her life out from underneath the thumb of other people.

"Are you okay?"

He startles out of his thoughts, looking up to see Sizhui has pulled his mare up beside his and is peering at him in concern.

He forces a smile, because he's put Sizhui through enough today, and he's a good boy that doesn't deserve to be involved in any of this. The worst part about dying again is going to be leaving behind Sizhui. He's such a sweet boy who loves him so easily and he just knows that it's going to break his heart when either the cultivation or the curse mark has run its course. "I'm fine, I'm fine. Just thinking."

Sizhui looks unconvinced, but nods before looking up towards the front of the procession, where Lan Xichen and Lan Zhan are talking about something while Jin Guangyao pretends to be interested. He reaches into his sleeve. "I found some of these in town when I went looking for you."

He pulls out a small bag of the sweet, spicy pepper candy that Wei Wuxian likes so much and hold it out.

"You're the best!" he says, taking the bag and also pausing to squeeze his arm in thanks, only not pulling him into a hug because he's not sure how tolerant the horses will be about it.

The food in Cloud Recesses is ass and he can't cover everything with chilli oil because the only person he'd met who liked food as spicy as he did was - well, no one. So having Mo Xuanyu like spicy food had seemed like edging a little too close to obvious.

He'd been so happy when Sizhui had brought pepper candy back for him for the first time and had sworn him to secrecy to how how much he loved them.

Wei Wuxian pops one of the candies in his mouth, sucking on it to more quickly get to the firey pops of pepper, which is his favorite.

There's about five seconds of deliciousness and then his stomach rolls with nausea. He tightens his grip, trying to ride it out, but the taste of the candy he loved turns sour and he's seriously worried he's going to hurl, which Lan Zhan would never let him hear the end of.

He spits the candy out onto the ground, rubbing at his mouth.

"Lady Xuanyu?" Sizhui asks startled. "Is - sorry, did I get the wrong one?"

"No, no, it's perfect," he assures, internally sighing in relief as his stomach starts to settle. "I guess I shouldn't eat them on an empty stomach! It ruins the flavor. Who knew?"

He's eaten them on an empty stomach a dozen times before and never had an issue.

"Okay," Sizhui says slowly. 'Are you sure you're alright?"

"I'm perfectly fine, Sizhui, don't worry," he says, and means it, even though he sort of wants to cry.

The pepper candies were one of the only things he could get his hands on that he enjoyed eating, and now even that's gone?

At least the Jin go all out on the banquets.

#prompt answers #prompts are closed #asks #anon #untamed

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lil-binuu · 1 month

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did someone ask for a…WARDEN NAMES TIER LIST????? no? i made one anyway 🥰

Here’s the tier list ^^ and below i’m ranking them all and adding a 30th one right at the end!

i wanna know everyone’s favs and maybe i’ll make a poll?

1. Bruce. It just gives gangster. (also bcs of batman bcs let’s be real, warden is so batman.)

2. Henry. IT JUST SUITTTSSSSSSS

3. Frank. can anyone else hear that stereotypical new york gangster accent?

4. Danny. YALL ITS SO GANGSTER?????

5. Richard. V sophisticated.

6. Authur. It’s giving grandaddy

7. Alan. Not bad. Nickname: Al? Al the gangster? wait no that’s so un-intimidating 😭

8. Mark. pretty good, would suit him, difficult to scream tho

9. George. Classic ig

10. Steven. the name is bad but the vibe is decent

11. Johnny. Again, i can hear an american gangster being called this but it’s quite un-intimidating

12. Kenneth. i don’t have any words.

13. Wayne. Icl i can see it?

14. William. This one i think should be moved higher bcs it’s acc not bad.

15. Micheal. It would suit him it’s just a bit basic

16. Thomas. Bluds a tank engine ig 🤷‍♀️

17. Edward. hmm quite posh

18. Kevin. Doesn’t suit that much and also a bit plain

19. John. please no the poor guy has suffered enough.

20. Steve. I can see it being a gangster name but it’s laughable

21. Dennis. no…

22. Donald. Is it bad that i can see this??

23. Willie. please don’t send a bomb to my house

24. Paul. he’s not that old

25. Larry. it’s american ig?

27. Gary. better or worse?

28. Ronald. Mcdonald?

29. Gregory. Im sorry but why can i see it… Like someone calling him Greg? maybe i’m just desperate for this guy to have a name idk

before the last one, i wanna know what y’all think!! any suggestions or opinions? should i make a top 10 poll and we can all vote?

now finally, last but not least,

30. Daddy. NO IM KIDDING AHAHHAGAGAHG

#zsakuva #sakuverse #zsakuva elias #zsakuva warden #daddy i mean warden what who said that #zsakuvafandom #IM JUST JOKINGGG (or am i 😏)#crumpets #it’s all just silly thoughts

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hesbuckcompton-baby · 6 months

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I'm Your Man - Robert 'Rosie' Rosenthal x OFC - Chapter 9

AO3

Warnings: Language

Word Count: 3.6k

Tags: @mads-weasley @xxluckystrike @curaheehee @footprintsinthesxnd @dcyllom @storysimp @latibvles @love-studying58

A/N: Sorry this chapter took a while! Please enjoy some filler fluff as a reward for your patience

The January cold was a biting, painful thing, with the uncanny ability to burrow its way deep beneath any clothing, regardless of the layers everyone at Thorpe Abbotts had desperately piled on for protection. Thick, wool socks and scarves were always in order, and a few of the elderly women in the village had begun to make a pretty penny by selling them on to disgruntled pilots who had never before experienced winter outside of California.

Major Kidd had given her Egan's sheepskin jacket. Well, he less gave it to her than he did leave it in the mechanics' hut for her, but she appreciated the gesture nevertheless. The sleeves were too long, but she made do, as it was loose enough on her to fit comfortably over her work overalls. Combined with the wool tights she'd stolen from George, and the fingerless gloves she'd found at the bottom of a drawer somewhere, the weather was almost bearable. Almost.

It had snowed overnight. There was too much ice on the roads to cycle without endangering life and limb, so Frankie had been forced to commandeer a phone and summon Lemmons in one of the jeeps. The man had looked so miserable upon his arrival, that it had been impossible not to laugh. Hat tugged down past his eyebrows, scarf pulled up over his chin, his face was only half visible, and what sliver she could see was contorted in a frown. His gloves were made of bright orange wool, and she suspected the women in the village had run out of the more appealing colours by the time he sought them out. Grinning to herself, she clambered into the jeep, stomping snow off of her boots as she sat down.

"I don't like this country anymore, Frankie," Ken complained, voice muffled by his scarf.

She laughed. "Oh, sweetheart, if you think this is bad..."

He was stricken with a look of complete and utter fear, and Frankie let out a snort. "It gets worse?"

"Probably!"

This information put him in a foul mood for the rest of the drive, muttering and grumbling to himself about 'goddamn snow' and 'goddamn ice' as they pulled up to the runway, tyres gouging fresh marks into the undisturbed blanket of white. They were both left sorely wishing they had finished their work the night before when the weather had been more palatable, but there was no getting around what they had to do now.

The metal of the planes' exteriors was frozen to the touch, bare fingertips left raw and red as they worked away at replacing and tightening various bolts and rivets, breath blooming in frozen clouds in front of their faces. Every five minutes they would have to step away from whatever they were doing and run a few laps around the place just to warm themselves up, aware of what a ridiculous sight they must have made.

"Think they'll go up again tomorrow?" Ken asked, panting as he jogged on the spot behind Frankie, occasionally pausing to throw in a few star jumps.

"Not if the weather doesn't clear up - they'll need better skies than this if the navigators want to get anywhere," She shrugged, pausing halfway through tightening another bolt to jump up and down, attempting to restore feeling to her legs.

"Everyone else is in bed right now," He complained.

"Lucky bastards."

The pair must have appeared entirely absurd, chatting away with stony, irritated expressions as they stomped and jumped around entirely out of synch, and they counted themselves lucky that there wasn't a single other soul out there that morning to bear witness. A lit cigarette hung from between Frankie's lips, the embers only just succeeding in warming her face. Their cheeks and noses had both turned red after only an hour out in the cold, and by the end of their second, neither could justify staying outside any longer.

Kicking the snow off their boots, they shut themselves in the mechanics' hut, the light that hung from the ceiling swaying in the drafty breeze - the result of a ceiling gap that they were unable to locate. Turning on the gas stove that was usually only used to make terrible coffee, the pair pulled up their chairs beside it, holding their frozen hands above the small flame until feeling returned to their fingers.

"I forgot to ask you about your Christmas," Frankie huffed, rubbing her palms together, creating heat from the friction.

"That was nearly a month ago," He pointed out.

"I know. Just felt a bit bad about not asking."

"It was good, yeah. Sammy's folks had a goose, I dunno where they got it from," Lemmons chuckled, pausing for a moment. When he spoke again, there was a glimmer of something in his eye. "How was your Christmas?"

She frowned at him. "I told you before. Good."

"...Mhm."

A sudden knock at the door took them both by surprise, heads snapping towards the unexpected sound. Brows furrowed, they glanced at one another, neither one wanting to get up from their spot beside the stove. "Door's open!" Ken called.

They could hear the sound of someone awkwardly fumbling with the door handle, and Frankie was about to get up when it finally opened. Rosie had to use his foot to pry his way inside, a steaming cup of Red Cross coffee in each hand as he shuffled through, flakes of snow still resting unmelted in his hair. His face was flushed pink, and he wasn't wearing anywhere near enough clothes to protect him from the cold, snow encrusting the soles of his boots.

"Hey!" Frankie beamed, pulling up another chair for him between her and Lemmons. "Jesus, were you trying to get hypothermia?"

"Brought coffee," He said simply, voice still slightly shaky as he sat down, holding the tin mugs out to the mechanics. "And uh-" Reaching into his pocket, Rosie produced a crumpled paper bag containing a couple of doughnuts. "Don't tell Helen. Was only supposed to take one."

"Gee, thanks, Cap," Lemmons nodded gratefully, shooting Frankie a pointed stare that she pretended not to have noticed. She nodded in agreement, both hands wrapped around her cup, feeling the heat seep through the metal. The Red Cross coffee always tasted so much better than the crap they had in the mechanics' hut, and she resisted the urge to grin at the gesture, especially as she realised he had brought nothing for himself.

They drank in silence for a while, the only sound the jagged, laboured breathing of one trying to wear off a chill. "...So, uh..." Rosie began, hands folded in his lap as he looked between the others. "...Work going well?"

"Y'know, I can go somewhere else if you guys want," Ken pointed out, peering at them over the rim of his mug.

"No!" "No!" Frankie and Rosie blurted simultaneously, assuring him hurriedly. "You need to keep warm, Ken," She told him.

He had slurped down his coffee quickly, the winter cold cooling it down so that it wouldn't burn his throat. Shaking his head, he pushed his chair backwards out of the little semi-circle they had created, scraping loudly across the floor. "The fuel cans we asked for arrived yesterday, I should go pick them up before I forget."

"You sure?" Frankie asked, getting up to trail after him as he made his way to the door. "The snow'll probably start melting soon, you should wait until it's not so icy."

"No, no. Now's good," Lemmons nodded determinedly, smirking at her as he opened the door, a gust of cold wind blowing its way inside. "Thanks again for the coffee, Rosie!"

"No problem, Ken," He nodded, tipping an imaginary cap at him as the mechanic disappeared outside.

Frankie paused a moment to process what had happened before letting out a huff of laughter. Rosie was still sat beside the stove, watching with a smile as she crossed the room towards him. She leant down, and he craned his head up to meet her, their lips meeting in a quick kiss, as casual and comfortable as a long-married couple.

"He definitely knows," She pointed out, lowering herself back into her seat and propping her legs up across his lap, his elbows resting gently on them.

"Oh yeah," Rosie nodded in agreement. "Have you properly told anyone yet? Only, I haven't - I was waiting until you wanted to."

"Oh, I've only told George, she won't tell anyone. But I tell her literally everything, so y'know."

"Yeah, yeah, I expected that," He continued nodding, pausing after a moment as a stricken look of realisation crossed his face. "Wait, does that mean you told her about when we-"

"No! No, not about that, Jesus," Frankie giggled, nose creasing as she took another sip of her coffee. A smile spread across Rosie's expression as he took a moment to actually take in her appearance, his thumb rubbing back and forth along the hem of her trousers.

"... Is that Egan's jacket?"

"Mhm," She hummed, wiping her top lip as she put down her mug. "Kidd left it for me. It doesn't fit-" Frankie flapped the ends of her sleeves to illustrate the point, making him chuckle. "-but the thought was nice."

"God, I absolutely humiliated myself the first time I met Egan," Rosie shook his head slightly, his cheeks reddening. "Kept talking about flying in my goddamn skivvies, I was pretty sure he only brought me to meet you so that you two could both laugh at the weird new Captain."

She laughed, taking one of his hands in hers, absent-mindedly twiddling his fingers as she spoke. "I'm sorry, you flew in your what?"

"Jesus, I'm doing it again, this is like a recurring nightmare. It gets real hot in Texas, right, so we practised flying in our underwear to stop us from over-heating - but of course I decided that was the best possible story to introduce myself to the Majors with. I mean, Christ, I still don't know what I was thinkin'."

"Well, the first time I met him I absolutely destroyed him in a drinking contest, so he's been offered his fair share of public humiliation."

"That... does help, actually," He admitted, and she grinned, running a hand through his hair and messing up his curls as she rose to her feet. His gaze followed her, tilting his head upwards, a few loose curls hanging in his face. "Where are you going?"

"Funny thing is, I actually have this thing called a job," Frankie teased, zipping up Egan's jacket as she headed for the door. "I have to, like, do it, and everything."

"Wow, that sounds really hard, I'm so impressed," Rosie replied flatly, a smirk curling his lip.

A gust of wind blew a cloud of snowflakes in through the door as she opened it, flipping her collar up to her chin against the breeze as she stepped outside. Lemmons was waiting there, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, and his unexpected presence startled her, snow crunching beneath her feet as she jumped, sucking in a sharp breath.

"What the fuck are you doing here?"

Ken shrugged. "Thought I oughta give you a minute - didn't wanna interrupt anything private."

Frankie's eyes narrowed, glaring at him as they made their way back towards the hardstand. "Oh, shut up. You don't know what you're talking about."

"Can you seriously look me in the eyes and tell me I'm wrong?"

Turning on her heel, she stared at him, their gazes locked for a long, awkward moment of silence. She gnawed at her lip, saying nothing, until suddenly she broke, scoffing as she stomped away. "Fuck you, Ken."

"Told you!"

Before he could move, she had slung an arm around his neck, forcing him into a playful headlock. Lemmons squawked, wrestling against her unrelenting grip until he dug his fingers into her side, and she released him with a yelp, their hair both dusted white with snow.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

It took three days for the weather to subside - three days of icy roads, relentless snowfall, and trying not to freeze on the hardstand. Every day like clockwork Rosie had brought the mechanics fresh, hot coffee, filling flasks with the stuff to satisfy more and more of the ground crews, who were growing steadily more irritable with each inch of snowfall. The pilots were grounded for the duration, but even the pub seemed too great of a trek under such circumstances. The only sanctuary was the small, cylindrical heaters inside the Nissen huts, and in the evenings many took to sitting around them to keep warm.

Early morning birdsong came as an unwelcome sound as Frankie's eyes peeled open, adjusting to consciousness as sunlight streamed in through the window above her bed. A gust of air hit her face as her bedsheets were ripped off of her, and she flinched as she waited for the sudden chill to grip her. But it didn't.

"George. What the fuck," She grumbled, pressing her palms against her eyelids as she sat up, hair knotted and sticking out at random angles on one side of her head.

"Get up. Snow's thawed, they'll be flying today."

The woman had a disturbing knack for always looking immaculate - golden hair falling in perfect curls, red lipstick that never smudged, and clothes that always fitted perfectly. George always told her that it was just that she put in the effort, but Frankie tended to suspect some sort of witchcraft.

"Well fuck me, in that case, why didn't you wake me up sooner?" She huffed, her hairbrush getting stuck halfway through a knotted patch. For a moment, she couldn't quite bear to deal with it, and just let it hang there, weighing down her scalp on one side.

"Thought you should get some beauty sleep before you see off your darling pilot," She teased, her voice taking on a sing-song quality. "Although admittedly, I wasn't expecting you to wake up looking like you'd been dragged sideways through a thornbush," George added, and Frankie let out a cry as she yanked on the hairbrush, dragging it forcefully through her hair until it fell straight.

"I'll drag you sideways through a bush in a minute," She muttered, rubbing at the sore spot on her scalp with one hand as she pulled on her coveralls with the other.

"I just think it took you long enough to finally snog him, you might as well try not to look like a dying cat whenever you see him."

"Oh, piss off!"

Huge meltwater puddles lined the roads on both sides, the grass reduced to muddy swampland, sodden with what remained of the snowfall. Frankie pedalled slowly, careful not to slip, calling out in greeting to the men who passed by in their jeeps, tyres kicking up water, spraying her legs and staining her trousers.

Her breaks screeched loudly to a halt as she stopped in front of a half-melted snowman on the side of the road, the last remaining evidence of the village children's play. Their laughter had filled the air since the first snowfall, the only remedy to the constant, freezing misery. The snowman's head was close to toppling off, its carrot nose drooping pathetically. She couldn't help but chuckle as one of the pebbles they had used for eyes slipped from its perch, landing with a thumb in the damp grass. She wondered if it had snowed back home, if Alice and Jill had made a snowman of their own. As a child, she'd used her mother's old scarf and gloves, the scent of perfume still lingering on them after so many years.

Another jeep rolled past, cutting it too close and too fast, a spray of puddle water splashing all the way up her back, the cold soaking through to her spine. Frankie let out a yelp, her train of thought lost as she flipped off the driver in his side mirror and began to pedal again, resuming her steady, cautious pace as the airstrip came into view.

The Riveters were gathered around their B-17 when she arrived, packs slung over their shoulders as they readied to board. Letting out a huge yawn, Frankie dismounted her bike, letting it lie on the tarmac as she approached, the uncomfortable stick of damp fabric against skin making her squirm. The moment Pappy saw her, he frowned. "D'you just get up? They've run the checks on our bus already, right?"

"Your plane's been ready to fly for days, Pap - I was out here in the snow making sure of it while you lot were warming your feet by the fire," She rolled her eyes, squeezing his shoulder as she passed.

Rosie was visibly fighting a grin as she approached, Bailey shooting him a confused look at his expression as he passed, clambering into the belly of the plane. One by one, the flight crew filed inside, hauling themselves up through the hatch in a series of grunts, until their Captain was the only one left standing on the tarmac. The moment they were alone, he let his smile show, a red tint flushing his cheeks. "Ma'am," He teased, tilting his cap at her as she approached.

Frankie smirked, stepping forward until their fronts were pressed together. "So... what number is this now?"

"Seventeenth mission," Rosie nodded.

"Hm. Not too shabby."

"Why thank you, dear," He grinned, leaning down to press his lips to hers. Just as Frankie began to reciprocate the kiss, a thought popped into his mind, and he pulled back, eliciting a tut of disappointment from her. "Y'know, I had this idea earlier that I'd bring you flowers, but it's too damn cold for 'em. Thought I'd let you know anyway, so you can appreciate the thought."

She hummed. "Duly noted," Grinning, she resumed the kiss, her teeth accidentally grazing his lip as she wrapped her arms around the back of his neck. Hands grasping at her back, his brow furrowed at the sudden dampness, but he figured she might send him away if he ruined the kiss again. He could smell the oil on her clothes, but the scent he had once found acrid now only succeeded in reminding him of her. Even miles up in the sky, hanging perilously over enemy territory, there was something calming in that smell, a constant tether to home.

The pair had been so engrossed in their embrace, that they had failed to notice Pappy reappearing through the hatch, sent to retrieve something they had forgotten in the jeep. But the moment his feet hit the tarmac, and he took in the scene before him, he froze, releasing a sort of strangled grunt that alerted them to his presence, springing away from each other, hands raised to wipe any evidence of the other from their mouths.

Wide-eyed in a mixture of shock and horror, he spoke in angry whispers, closing the hatch most of the way to muffle the sound. "Are you kidding me?!"

Rosie held up his hands as if begging for mercy. "Look, Pappy, I was gonna tell you, it's just-"

"I owe George so much money," Pappy huffed, running a hand across his brow.

Frankie frowned. "... You what?"

"We had drinks last week, we were betting on how long it'd take for... this to happen."

She resisted the urge to laugh, noticing how Rosie seemed to be suppressing a smile. "George already knew about this last week."

His expression was horror-stricken, face growing ever-redder with every second that passed. "... Are you fucking kidding me?!"

Rosie let out a chuckle. "I think you just got scammed, Pappy."

Brow furrowed, expression contorted in fury, Pappy muttered to himself in indecipherable fury as he marched over to the jeep, retrieved his forgotten cargo, and stomped back towards the plane, pausing briefly to interrupt his incensed murmuring. "Happy for you two. Or whatever," He sighed, waving a hand in their general direction as he failed to meet their eyes.

As soon as he was safely inside the plane and out of earshot, they collapsed into laughter, his utterly outraged frown seared into their minds. Rosie wheezed as he caught his breath, "I think George is using your friendship for evil," He pointed out, succumbing to laughter again as Frankie let out a cackle.

"I am not letting her collect on that debt," She shook her head, face flushed red, cheeks creased with a smile. Frankie looked up as she felt his hands against her face, palms cupping his cheeks as he brought her face to his, their foreheads simply resting against each other's as their breathing slowly returned to normal.

"I will see you later," He spoke softly, the tip of his nose brushing against hers.

"Yeah, you better," She reached up, straightening his tie. "I'll be really pissed off otherwise."

"And we can't have that."

"Nope."

With one last smile, Rosie pressed a kiss to the tip of her nose, and Frankie scoffed as he pulled away, wiping her face with the back of her hand. He smirked to himself as he climbed up into the plane, arms burning with the weight of his body as he hauled himself up through the hatch. Navigating his way through to the cockpit with ease, he slid into the pilot's seat, feeling Pappy's gaze burning into the side of his skull.

"...Yes Pappy?" He asked after a moment of silence, his co-pilot shaking his head side to side, never retracting his penetrating stare.

"I fuckin' knew it."

#masters of the air #masters of the air oc #masters of the air fic #rosie rosenthal #rosie rosenthal x oc #ken lemmons #pappy lewis #oc: frankie #oc: george #fic | i'm your man

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xxsycamore · 1 year

Text

𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐓𝐎𝐁𝐄𝐑 𝐃𝐈𝐀𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐔𝐄 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐊 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐓 𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ━ ≪ 𝐕𝐈𝐒𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐄𝐌𝐏𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟑 ≫

Welcome to the fourth annual installment of Visions of Temptation - the multifandom kinktober content creation challenge hosted at my blog.

►under the cut you will find both lists written down in blank format. You’ll also find a short explanation of some lesser-known kinks you might encounter above.

███ RULES

▍This challenge features kinktober dialogue & kink prompt lists for everyone over the age of 18.

▍It’s absolutely free to use across all fandoms, with a main focus on otome. If you’re a writer, artist, visual graphic creator, etc., you can use these lists to create your kinktober works.

▍You can share this with your followers and open requests using these lists.

▍There are a total of 62 kinks, two for each day of the month of October, and additionally 31 dialogue prompts. It’s up to you whether you choose to use prompts from one of the lists or both, and to combine them or not. You don't have to follow just one list - mix and match them if you'd like!

▍Make sure to put content warnings where needed.

▍This challenge won't have a masterlist featuring the works created for it, meaning that it won't have a deadline either - feel free to complete it at your own pace.

▍About credit: Make sure to mention the challenge itself and its creator, me. I’d be happy to see your works, so please tag me when using my list here on tumblr! Posting to other sites is fine, as long as you credit me properly :)

▍In order for us to find each other's works and appreciate them, please make sure to use the tag " #visions of temptation 2023 " !

▍Don't hesitate to reach out if you have a question! My askbox is always open!

▍Remember to have fun and not stress over this long challenge!

targeted fandoms: Ikeseries (Ikemen Prince; Ikemen Vampire; Ikemen Revolution; Ikemen Sengoku; Ikemen Genjiden; Ikemen Villains + other cybird games); Tears of Themis; Obey me!; Mr. Love: Queen's Choice; Count of Darkness; Voltage games; Mystic Messenger; Light and Night + all other mobile/console otome you can think of. Remember, this is just the focus of the challenge - you can write for any fandom at all!

Depending on how much free time i've got on my hands, I'll also be checking out your works and reblogging them on my main blog, @kissmetwicekissmedeadly - under the tag "#vot 23 reblogs" :)

If you're wondering if I'm taking requests for my challenge, make sure to check my blog beforehand. At the moment of posting this, requests are closed - but that might change in the future.

███ PROMPTS

both lists in blank format + handy explanation of some of the kinks under the cut.

Happy creating, everyone and may you have a great October! ❤

Kink list:

Day 1 - Oct 1st - Cowgirl Position | Doggy Style

Day 2 - Oct 2nd - Biting/Marking | Dacryphilia

Day 3 - Oct 3rd - Angry Sex | Vanilla Sex

Day 4 - Oct 4th - Jealousy/Possessiveness | Voyeurism

Day 5 - Oct 5th - Spit-roasting | Double Penetration

Day 6 - Oct 6th - Sex Toys/Object Insertion | Glove Kink/Uniform Kink

Day 7 - Oct 7th - Public Sex/Outdoor Sex | Sex in a vehicle

Day 8 - Oct 8th - Facesitting | Deep-throating

Day 9 - Oct 9th - Praise Kink | Degradation

Day 10 - Oct 10th - Somnophilia | Cockwarming

Day 11 - Oct 11th - Frottage | Accidental Stimulation

Day 12 - Oct 12th - Bondage | S&M

Day 13 - Oct 13th - Hypnosis/Aphrodisiacs | Begging

Day 14 - Oct 14th - First Times | Guided Touching

Day 15 - Oct 15th - Shower Sex/Bathtub Sex | Scent Kink

Day 16 - Oct 16th - Pegging | Choking

Day 17 - Oct 17th - Anonymous sex/One night stand | FWB

Day 18 - Oct 18th - Omegaverse/Breeding | Size Difference Kink

Day 19 - Oct 19th - Phone Sex | Wet Dreams

Day 20 - Oct 20th - Oral Sex | Anal Sex

Day 21 - Oct 21st - Not Wearing Underwear | Sexy lingerie

Day 22 - Oct 22nd - Mirror Sex | Striptease

Day 23 - Oct 23rd - Coming Untouched | Overstimulation

Day 24 - Oct 24th - Against the Wall | Bent Over a Table/Desk

Day 25 - Oct 25th - Morning Sex | Edging/Orgasm Denial

Day 26 - Oct 26th - Body Worship | Aftercare

Day 27 - Oct 27th - Temperature Play | Knife Play/Gun Play

Day 28 - Oct 28th - Impact Play | Food Play

Day 29 - Oct 29th - Nipple Play | Body Part Fetish

Day 30 - Oct 30th - Dirty Talk/Voice Kink | Come Fetish/Creampie

Day 31 - Oct 31st - Monsterfucking/Non-human Characters | Sexual Roleplay

Dialogue list:

"Sorry, I was just thinking of all the ways I can ravage you."

"Open wide and let me see."

"It can wait. I must have you now."

"Don't play innocent now. I know you want this."

"Lie down and let me love your body."

"You let out such beautiful sounds when I touch you here."

"I can keep you right where you are all day."

"Does it excite you that we can get caught any second?"

"Time for revenge."

"I'll take good care of you. I'll be gentle."

"You're not the one giving orders here."

"You've got a pretty mouth. It'll look even better pleasing me."

"Feel it. You did this to me."

"Where else do you want me to touch you?"

"Oh, but it's so fun to make you beg."

"You poor thing, you're shaking with pleasure."

"Should I bend you over this table? Is this what you want?"

"I need you to be quiet." "Make me."

"Mark me so everyone knows I belong to you."

"You're shameless, seducing me at such a time."

"Touch yourself for me. Look at me while you do it."

"Oh, that's a new reaction. I like it."

"I'll spoil you rotten until you can't take it anymore."

"That's a dangerous game you're playing."

"How does it feel when we both please you at the same time?"

"All this and you still want more?"

"Maybe if you try asking nicely, I'll fuck you."

"I can't stand you sometimes. And I want you so bad."

"I love that dirty brain of yours."

"If only you could see yourself now."

"I already want to fuck you again."

some prompts explained...

Voyeurism - secretly watching someone participate in sexual activities or do something private and intimate like taking off their clothes. An idea is person A catching person B masturbate accidentally but lingering by the door just a little longer...

Frottage - Rubbing against another person's body/part of the body.

Mirror sex - Sex in front of a mirror.

Dacryphilia - Crying during sex.

S/M - Sadism and masochism.

Spitroasting - A three-way sex act in which a person is penetrated orally and either anally or vaginally.

Omegaverse - taken from fanlore. org: A kink trope wherein some people have defined biological roles based on a hierarchical system.

Somnophilia - Intercourse while a sexual partner is asleep.

Anonymous sex - Here is an idea: masquerade balls.

FWB - Friends with benefits, no feelings attached.

Impact play - Slapping a sexual partner, could be across the face or spanking for instance.

Sexual roleplay - doctor/patient play, boss/employee play, all kinds of play pretend.

Hope these could be of help! Remember, you can always come ask if something's unclear. Once again, happy creating! ❤

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mrk236547789 · 9 days

Text

In the small town of Bellwood live Ben Tennyson and Kevin Levin, two high school students who had been best friends since kindergarten. Ben was known for his quick wit and unpredictable adventures, thanks to the Omnitrix, a watch-like device that allowed him to transform into various aliens. Kevin, on the other hand, was the strong and stoic one, often acting as the voice of reason to balance Ben's impulsiveness.

Their friendship grew into something more profound over the summer, as they discovered shared interests and a deep emotional connection that transcended their usual banter. One warm evening, while watching a meteor shower from the hilltop overlooking the town, Ben's hand found its way into Kevin's. They both felt a jolt of excitement, and their eyes met, filled with a silent understanding that they were no longer just friends.

The months that followed were a whirlwind of stolen glances, lingering touches, and secret kisses in the quiet moments between battles and school. They kept their newfound romance hidden from their friends and family, not because they were ashamed, but because they cherished the privacy of their budding love. It was a secret they guarded fiercely, a treasure that belonged only to them amidst the chaos of their alien-filled lives.

SUMMARY^1: Ben Tennyson and Kevin Levin, lifelong friends in Bellwood, develop a romantic bond as they grow older. Their relationship deepens over the summer, marked by a moment of intimate connection under a meteor shower. They maintain secrecy about their love, cherishing the private moments between their public lives filled with battles and school.

“I don’t want to be a superhero anymore,” Ben whispered to Kevin, the words heavy with the weight of his burden. They were sitting in the shadow of a large oak tree, the last leaves of autumn rustling above them. The sky was a canvas of deep blues and purples, painted with the final strokes of the setting sun. Kevin looked at Ben, his eyes searching for a hint of a joke, but finding only earnestness.

“I want to settle down with and have kids, Kevin,” Ben continued, his voice filled with a mix of hope and doubt. “But how can I do that with the Omnitrix?”

Kevin took a deep breath, his grip on Ben’s hand tightening slightly. He had always known Ben’s fears and dreams, and he understood the gravity of what Ben was saying. But he also knew Ben’s heart—his bravery, his kindness, and his unyielding desire to protect those he loved. “We’ll figure it out together, Ben. Maybe the Omnitrix has a way to help us with this, too.”

The two of them sat in silence for a while, the cool air hinting at the approaching winter. Ben’s gaze drifted to the distant horizon, where the last sliver of light disappeared behind the treeline. He sighed. “But what if it doesn’t? What if I can’t be the dad I want to be?”

Kevin leaned in closer, his voice firm and reassuring. “You’re already the best dad those aliens could ever ask for. And we can always ask Professor Paradox for advice. He’s seen more than we can imagine.”

A year later

SUMMARY^1: Ben confesses his desire to leave the superhero life behind for a family with Kevin. He expresses his fears about the Omnitrix's impact on this dream. Kevin, understanding and supportive, suggests they tackle the challenge together and possibly consult Professor Paradox for guidance, hinting at a potential solution within the device itself.

Kevin was 18 now and Ben was 17 graduating from high school. Their relationship had grown stronger with each passing day, filled with stolen moments of joy and quiet resolve in the face of the ever-present danger the Omnitrix brought. They still haven’t told anyone about their love, but it was a secret that seemed to burn brighter with each shared glance and whispered endearment.

After graduation Kevin married Ben in a small, private ceremony atop the same hill where they had first confessed their feelings.

“Follow me Ben,” Kevin said, his eyes gleaming with excitement as he led Ben through the dense forest, their footsteps muffled by the thick layer of leaves beneath them. Ben’s heart raced with anticipation. What could Kevin have planned?

There was a house waiting for them in the heart of the forest, a beautiful wooden structure built with love and care by Kevin himself. It was their sanctuary, a place where Ben could safely transform without fear of discovery, and where they could live a life as close to normal as their circumstances allowed. The scent of fresh-cut lumber and the faint aroma of paint filled the air, mingling with the earthy scent of the surrounding woods.

“I told the media Ben 10 was dead, to give us some space," Kevin said, turning to face Ben with a proud smile. "It’s ours now, all of it."

SUMMARY^1: Kevin and Ben, now 18 and 17, tie the knot in a private ceremony on the hill of their first confession. To ensure a life of safety and normalcy, Kevin constructs a secret forest retreat where Ben can use the Omnitrix without fear. This deception from the public allows them to start a family in peace, as Ben steps back from his superhero identity.

Ben took off the Omnitrix and handed it to Kevin, his eyes wide with disbelief and gratitude. He couldn’t believe Kevin had gone to such lengths to give them a chance at a normal life. Kevin took the device and placed it in a hidden compartment inside the house, sealing it away from the world. For the first time in years, Ben felt the weight of his alien powers lift from his shoulders.

“Now that your my husband, we can start a family, right?” Ben asked, a hint of apprehension in his voice as he gazed at the serene beauty of their new home.

Kevin’s smile grew even wider as he took Ben’s hand and led him into the house. He had been working on a secret project for months, something that would change their lives forever. Inside, the walls were adorned with blue and green paint, creating a calming atmosphere. A crib stood in the corner of the living room, filled with soft, plush toys that matched the color scheme.

“I figured we might need this soon,” Kevin said, gesturing towards the crib. Ben’s eyes filled with tears, overwhelmed by the love and thoughtfulness his husband had shown.

3 months later

“Babe I am home from work!” Kevin called out as he opened the door to their little forest house. Ben emerged from the kitchen, his cheeks flushed and his eyes sparkling with excitement.

“There is my 3 month pregnant husband!” Kevin exclaimed, sweeping Ben into a gentle hug, mindful of the baby bump that was just starting to show.

SUMMARY^1: Kevin surprises Ben with a beautifully crafted forest retreat designed for a family. The house includes a secret compartment for the Omnitrix and a prepared nursery, revealing his hope for their future. Three months later, Ben discovers he is pregnant, marking a significant milestone in their journey toward parenthood. Kevin expresses his joy and excitement for their impending arrival.

SUMMARY^2: Ben and Kevin, friends turned lovers, marry secretly and plan a family, with Kevin building a secluded retreat for their safety. Ben, concerned about the Omnitrix's influence, is soon pregnant, and Kevin is thrilled.

Ben chuckled, his hand resting protectively on the small bulge in his belly. “How was your first day at the garage?”

Kevin squeezed him tighter. “It was good. But nothing compares to coming home to you and our little one.” Ben felt a warm glow spread through him, the reality of their future settling in.

“So, what’s the plan for tonight?” Ben asked, his eyes lighting up with mischief.

Kevin raised an eyebrow. “Well, I was thinking we could stay in, maybe watch a movie?”

Ben’s expression fell slightly. “But we do that every night.”

Kevin stepped back, his hands on Ben’s shoulders. “What’s wrong?”

Ben looked down at his stomach, his voice filled with a hint of insecurity. “It’s just, I don’t know if I can handle this, Kevin. What if something goes wrong with the baby?”

Kevin’s expression grew serious as he cupped Ben’s cheek. “We’ve been through worse, remember? And we’re not alone in this. We have each other, and we’ll face whatever comes together, like we always have.”

The comfort in Kevin’s words was palpable, and Ben felt his anxiety ease. “You’re right,” he said with a nod. “But maybe tonight we can do something a little more... adventurous?”

“Like what?” Kevin asked, his curiosity piqued as he followed Ben into the kitchen.

“Like you lick my pussy until I scream your name and the baby kicks in excitement!” Ben said, his voice laced with a seductive growl that made Kevin's cock twitch in his pants.

SUMMARY^1: As Ben's pregnancy progresses, the couple maintains their usual routines with Kevin working at a garage and Ben managing the household. Despite occasional anxieties about the baby's health, they continue to support each other. One evening, Ben suggests a more intimate activity, proposing that Kevin perform oral sex on him, which excites both of them. This act symbolizes their deep connection and shared desire for a fulfilling relationship amidst their extraordinary circumstances.

Kevin's eyes darkened with desire, and he didn’t need any further convincing. He followed Ben into their cozy bedroom, where the faint scent of incense filled the air, setting the mood for a night of passion and exploration. Ben had always had a knack for making their life feel like an adventure, even in the most mundane moments.

Ben lay back on the bed, his shirt lifted to expose his swollen belly. The sight of him, so vulnerable yet so powerful, sent a thrill through Kevin. He kissed Ben's stomach gently, feeling the soft skin and the firmness beneath. Ben moaned, his body reacting to the tender touch. Kevin looked up, his eyes questioning. Ben nodded eagerly, giving his consent.

Kevin kissed a trail down Ben’s stomach, reaching the waistband of his pants. He unbuckled them with trembling hands, his heart racing with excitement and love. He pulled them down, revealing Ben’s pussy, already glistening with anticipation. Ben spread his legs, inviting Kevin in, and Kevin didn’t hesitate. He kissed and licked his way down, savoring every inch of Ben’s body as if it were the first time.

Ben’s moans grew louder as Kevin’s tongue danced around his clit, teasing it before plunging into his warm wetness. The room was filled with the sounds of their passionate whispers and the occasional gasp as Kevin hit just the right spot. Ben’s hips bucked upward, and Kevin’s grip tightened on his thighs, holding him in place as he explored deeper.

SUMMARY^1: In the private sanctuary of their bedroom, Ben initiates an intimate act with Kevin, who is overwhelmed by the sight of Ben's pregnant body. Kevin approaches with care and love, engaging in oral sex as a testament to their bond. Their shared passion and trust are highlighted as they continue to find joy and connection amidst the changes in their lives.

Kevin’s tongue circled Ben’s clit with an expert touch, feeling it swell and pulse beneath him. Ben’s nails dug into the bedspread, his eyes squeezed shut as he tried to hold back the orgasm building within him. Kevin’s hands slid up to massage Ben’s swollen breasts, his thumbs flicking over the sensitive nipples. Ben arched his back, his chest heaving as the pleasure grew unbearable.

“Kevin, I’m gonna cum!” Ben’s voice was a desperate whine, his body tensing in anticipation. Kevin’s eyes met Ben’s, a silent challenge in their depths. He increased his pace, his tongue working in tandem with his fingers. Ben’s eyes rolled back, and he screamed Kevin’s name, the sound echoing through the quiet house. The baby inside him kicked, as if in response to the intense pleasure its parent was feeling.

Kevin wanted to see Ben cum, to watch the ecstasy play out on his face as he gave in to the pleasure. He increased the pressure, his tongue flicking and swirling, feeling Ben's body tense with each stroke. Ben’s moans grew more frantic, his legs quivering around Kevin’s shoulders. And then it hit—Ben’s orgasm, a crescendo of pleasure that left him trembling and gasping for air. The baby inside him kicked again, a little more insistently this time, as if eager to join in the celebration of their love.

SUMMARY^1: The intimate scene escalates as Kevin's skilled oral ministrations bring Ben to the brink of climax. Ben's body responds fervently, culminating in a powerful orgasm that resonates with the baby within. This shared moment underscores the deep love and connection between them, with the baby's movements acting as a symbol of their union and the life they've created together.

SUMMARY^2: Ben and Kevin maintain their relationship's intimacy through Ben's pregnancy with an evening of oral sex, emphasizing their love and bond amidst their new life chapter.

Kevin pulled back, smiling up at Ben, who was now panting heavily, his cheeks flushed and eyes hazy with satisfaction. Ben reached down and pulled Kevin up to kiss him deeply, tasting himself on Kevin’s mouth. The kiss grew heated, their tongues dancing together in a passionate tango. Kevin’s cock was rock hard, straining against his pants, and Ben could feel it through the fabric.

“Save this for the next 3 months, stud,” Ben murmured, a mischievous smile playing on his lips as he gently pushed Kevin away. He knew that Kevin was insatiable, but he also knew that they had to be careful. The baby was their priority now, and Ben didn’t want to take any unnecessary risks.

Kevin’s eyes searched Ben’s, a mix of desire and concern swirling in their depths. He nodded, understanding the gravity of the situation. “But I want you to know that I’m here for you, every step of the way,” he said, his voice thick with love.

3 months later

Ben was 6 months pregnant now, and the changes in his body were becoming more pronounced every day. His stomach had grown significantly, and he could feel the baby's movements with increasing strength. It was both thrilling and terrifying. He had never felt so alive and yet so vulnerable.

SUMMARY^1: After their intimate encounter, Ben teases Kevin but insists on caution due to the pregnancy. The story jumps ahead three months to Ben at six months pregnant, feeling the baby's strong movements and experiencing a mix of excitement and fear. Their bond remains steadfast, with Kevin reassuring Ben of his unwavering support during this transformative time.

It was 8 pm when Ben came in the living room with just a robe on, his bulging belly leading the way. Kevin was already on the couch, playing a video game. The room was lit by the flickering blue light from the TV. Ben leaned over the couch and whispered, "Kevin, I'm feeling it again."

“Feeling what?” Kevin asked without looking up, his thumbs dancing over the game controller.

“Horny again?” Kevin smirked, finally setting down the game controller and looking up at Ben. Ben’s cheeks reddened, but he nodded. Pregnant hormones had done a number on Ben’s libido, and it seemed like he was always in heat. Kevin paused the game.

“We need to fix that,” Kevin said with a grin, setting aside the video game controller. He took Ben’s hand and gently led him back to their bedroom. The room was warm and inviting, the perfect place to escape from the cold outside.

Kevin helped Ben out of his robe, revealing his naked form. Ben’s breasts had grown fuller and more sensitive, and his stomach was a round mound of life. Kevin couldn’t help but feel a sense of awe as he traced the outline of the baby with his fingertips, feeling the little life inside his husband.

They lay down on the bed, their bodies entwined, Kevin’s cock pressing against Ben’s thigh. Ben reached down and took it in his hand, stroking it gently. Kevin’s eyes closed, a low groan escaping his lips. They had to be careful with penetration now, but that didn’t mean they couldn’t find other ways to satisfy their desires.

SUMMARY^1: Ben, experiencing heightened pregnancy hormones, expresses his arousal to Kevin, who quickly sets aside his game. They move to the bedroom, where Ben's enhanced sensitivity is revealed. Despite the need for caution, they find alternative ways to satisfy each other sexually, maintaining their intimate connection while honoring the life growing within Ben.

Kevin leaned down and took one of Ben’s swollen nipples into his mouth, suckling gently. Ben’s back arched, and he moaned, the sensation sending waves of pleasure through his body. He could feel the baby stirring, but instead of feeling uncomfortable, it felt like they were all part of the same dance of love.

With his other hand, Kevin reached down and slid a finger into Ben’s pussy, finding him already wet and eager. Ben’s eyes never left Kevin’s, the intensity of their connection only growing stronger with each passing moment. Kevin’s thumb began to circle Ben’s clit, and Ben’s breath hitched.

Kevin had figured out what turned his pregnant husband on: licking his pussy made Ben go wild, but penetration was off the table for now. He was happy to oblige, eager to give Ben the pleasure he craved while keeping them both safe.

Ben’s moans grew louder as Kevin’s thumb worked in tandem with his mouth, teasing and tormenting his nipple. His hand stroked Kevin’s cock in time with the rhythm of Kevin’s thumb, creating a symphony of pleasure that resonated through both their bodies. The baby kicked again, as if eager to join in on the fun, and Ben couldn’t help but chuckle.

“I think he—or she—likes it too,” Ben murmured, his voice husky with desire.

Kevin grinned, his eyes never leaving Ben’s as he leaned down to kiss him. “Then let’s give them a show, shall we?”

SUMMARY^1: Kevin learns Ben's pregnancy-induced preferences, focusing on oral and manual stimulation. Their bond strengthens as they navigate intimacy with the baby's presence, leading to a passionate exchange filled with love, care, and shared pleasure, all while keeping the baby's safety in mind.

Their love-making was slow and tender, a delicate dance of pleasure and restraint. Kevin played on the bed as Ben lined up his pussy with Kevin’s cock, sliding down gently until the head was nestled at the entrance of his wetness. They both paused for a moment, savoring the anticipation. Then, with a deep breath, Ben began to lower himself, taking Kevin in inch by inch. They had figured out that with Ben on top, they could control the depth and speed, reducing the risk to the baby.

Kevin’s eyes never left Ben’s, watching for any sign of pain or discomfort. But Ben’s face was a picture of pure bliss, his eyes half-closed and his mouth slightly parted in a silent moan. The baby inside him kicked again, and Ben gasped, the sensation a strange mix of pleasure and pressure. He leaned back, his hands on Kevin’s chest, and began to rock his hips.

The friction between them was exquisite, a sweet agony that built and built until Ben was sure he couldn’t take it anymore. He rode Kevin’s cock with a gentle rhythm, their bodies moving in perfect harmony. The bed creaked softly with each thrust, the only sound in the otherwise quiet room.

Kevin’s hands roamed Ben’s body, exploring every inch of his new curves, marveling at the changes that pregnancy had brought. He cupped Ben’s breasts, the weight of them surprising and arousing in his palms, and tweaked his nipples gently. Ben’s eyes rolled back in his head, his hips moving faster now.

They had discovered that sex was different now, more intimate and more intense. Every touch, every kiss, every stroke seemed to resonate through the baby, connecting the three of them in a way that was both thrilling and overwhelming. The bond between them grew stronger with each shared moment of pleasure, a silent testament to the love they had built together.

As Ben’s orgasm grew closer, he leaned forward, his hands on Kevin’s shoulders, and began to ride him with more urgency. Kevin’s grip on Ben’s hips tightened, his own climax approaching. The room was filled with the scent of their desire, the air thick with passion. Ben’s breath came in ragged gasps as he felt the baby move in response to their love-making.

Kevin still in the bottom rubbed his hands around Ben huge belly feeling the baby kicking as Ben rode him. Kevin was so hard and ready to explode. He had never felt so connected to Ben than at this moment. The baby was a part of them, a part of their love, a physical manifestation of their bond.

Ben’s breaths grew quicker, his body tightening around Kevin’s cock as he approached climax. The baby’s kicks grew stronger, almost as if it knew what was happening, adding to the intensity of the moment. Kevin watched Ben’s face, the way his eyes screwed shut and his teeth dug into his bottom lip as he tried to keep his moans quiet.

“Let go, Ben. Let me hear you,” Kevin whispered, his own need building. Ben’s head fell back, and he let out a low, guttural cry as he came, his body shuddering with pleasure. The baby responded with a particularly strong kick, and Ben laughed breathlessly.

“Oh, oh my God, Kevin!” Ben panted, his orgasm subsiding but the aftershocks still rippling through him. He leaned forward, resting his forehead against Kevin’s, their breaths mingling as they both tried to catch their breath. Kevin’s cock was still hard, desperate for release, but he didn’t mind waiting. This was about Ben, about their baby.

Kevin’s hands slid to Ben’s ass, gripping him firmly as Ben began to move again, his hips rolling in a sensual dance that had Kevin’s cock sliding in and out of him in shallow, teasing thrusts. The baby kicked again, and Ben’s eyes widened in surprise.

“Kevin, I think the baby is enjoying it too!” Ben said with a laugh, his voice a little breathless. Kevin couldn’t help but feel a sense of pride and excitement at the thought of their child joining in on their intimate moments.

They continued to move together, their bodies speaking a language of love and need that was more profound than any words could express. The bed creaked rhythmically with their movements, the only sound in the quiet house that seemed to pulse with the beat of their hearts.

Kevin’s eyes remained locked on Ben’s, watching the play of emotions across his face: pleasure, love, and a hint of concern for their unborn child. He knew Ben was worried about the baby’s safety, but he also knew that this moment was a celebration of life, a declaration of their unity and a promise for the future.

Ben’s strokes grew more deliberate, his body moving in perfect rhythm with the baby’s kicks. Kevin’s cock swelled with each thrust, the pressure building until he could feel the familiar tightness in his balls. He knew he was close. Ben’s breathing grew ragged, his eyes fluttering shut as he rode the waves of pleasure.

“I’m gonna cum, Ben!” Kevin warned, his voice strained. Ben nodded, his own orgasm building again. They had become so in sync that their climaxes often came close together, a testament to their deep connection.

Ben leaned in to kiss Kevin, their tongues entwining as the tension grew. The baby kicked harder, and Ben felt a warmth spread through him, a mix of love and arousal. Kevin’s hips bucked up, driving him deeper into Ben, and Ben could feel the coil of Kevin’s orgasm tightening.

“Come for me, Kevin. Give it to me, all of it,” Ben whispered against his husband’s lips, his voice thick with need.

Kevin’s eyes darkened, and he responded with a low groan, his hips snapping upward, burying his cock into Ben’s welcoming pussy. The pleasure was intense, the culmination of months of pent-up desire and love. With a final, powerful thrust, Kevin came, his cock pulsing within Ben as he filled him with his seed. Ben’s orgasm hit him like a tidal wave, crashing over him in waves that seemed to last an eternity. He cried out, his nails digging into Kevin’s shoulders as he felt their baby kick in response to the intense sensations.

They lay there for a few moments, their bodies trembling with the aftershocks of their shared release. The room was quiet except for their heavy breathing and the distant hoot of an owl. Kevin’s arms wrapped around Ben’s waist, holding him close, their bodies still joined.

“I love you, Ben,” Kevin murmured, pressing a soft kiss to Ben’s forehead. Ben’s eyes fluttered open, a serene smile gracing his lips as he looked into Kevin’s eyes.

“I love you too, Kevin,” Ben replied, his voice still shaky from the aftermath of their lovemaking. He leaned in closer, nestling into the crook of Kevin’s neck, feeling the warmth of his skin and the steady beat of his heart. The baby kicked again, and they both chuckled, feeling the bond between them grow even stronger.

3 months later

Ben was 9 months pregnant now, and every moment was a new adventure for them both. The house had become a bustling hive of activity, filled with the sound of their laughter and the occasional grumble from Ben as he navigated the discomforts of his final trimester. The due date was approaching, and Kevin couldn’t contain his excitement. He had painted the nursery a neutral color, filled it with a crib, a changing table, and a rocking chair, and had even started a collection of baby toys and books.

“Baby I am off to work, I’ll be back soon, okay?” Kevin kissed Ben’s forehead gently before heading out the door. Ben nodded, his hand on his swollen belly, feeling the little kicks of life beneath his palm. He was nervous, but ready for this new chapter.

Ben started to jerk off while Kevin was at work, feeling the baby's movements in his belly as he stroked himself. The sensations were intense and foreign, a reminder of the life they had created together. He moaned quietly, not wanting to disturb their little one, but the need was too much to ignore.

He called Kevin “Baby I need you home I want to fuck so bad!”

Kevin chuckled over the phone, his voice a comforting rumble in Ben’s ear. “Hold on, love. I’ll be home soon. Just think about the baby, okay? We’re in this together, and we can handle anything that comes our way.”

Ben nodded, taking a deep breath and focusing on the baby’s kicks. He knew Kevin was right. They had come so far, and their love was stronger than ever. He could wait a little longer.

The minutes stretched into hours, and Ben filled his time with light housework, trying to distract himself from the constant need to touch his own body. By the time Kevin arrived home, Ben was practically vibrating with anticipation.

Kevin took one look at Ben and knew exactly what was on his mind. He set down his tools and took Ben’s hand, leading him to the bedroom. They had been careful these last few months, but the desire between them was still as strong as ever.

Ben lay on the bed, his giant stomach taking up most of the space. Kevin kissed him deeply, his hands caressing the soft skin of Ben’s belly. The baby kicked, as if eager to join in the affection. Ben’s eyes fluttered closed, his breath hitching as Kevin’s kisses grew more insistent.

They had agreed to keep their intimate moments gentle and safe, but the desire between them was undeniable. Kevin kissed a trail down Ben’s body, his hands tracing the contours of his swollen breasts and belly. Ben’s breath grew shallower, his skin flushing with arousal.

“Kevin, I need you,” Ben whispered, his eyes pleading. Kevin nodded, understanding the urgency in Ben’s voice. He gently positioned Ben on his side, his swollen belly cradled by a pillow. They had read up on safe positions for pregnant sex, and this was their favorite—it allowed for deep penetration without putting too much pressure on the baby.

Kevin slid in behind Ben, his hard cock pressing against the cleft of his ass. Ben gasped, the sensation of being filled both comforting and electrifying. They had discovered that anal sex was the best option for them now, keeping the baby safe while still satisfying their needs. Kevin’s hands found Ben’s hips, and he began to rock into him, their bodies moving in a rhythm that was both slow and steady.

Ben moaned softly, his body adjusting to the new sensations of Kevin's cock sliding into his ass. The pressure was intense, but the pleasure quickly overwhelmed any discomfort. His hand found its way to his own cock, stroking it in time with Kevin's gentle thrusts. The baby inside him squirmed, as if in response to the love and connection between the two men.

“I am going to cum, baby!” Ben's voice was strained with passion as he felt the familiar tension building in his balls. Kevin’s thrusts grew stronger, and Ben could feel the baby’s movements syncing with their lovemaking. It was a strange and erotic symphony of pleasure and anticipation.

When Ben released it was almost like water Kevin noticed. “Damn that is a lot of precum!” Kevin whispered with amazement. “Babe I don’t think that is all pre-cu-“ Ben was cut off by an intense pain in his stomach.

“Ben? What’s wrong?” Kevin’s face was a mask of concern as Ben’s eyes went wide with fear.

“I think that was my water breaking!” Ben’s voice was filled with a mix of excitement and fear as a gush of fluid soaked the bed beneath him. Kevin’s eyes widened, and he pulled out quickly, his own orgasm forgotten in the face of the impending birth.

They both stumbled out of bed, Ben’s hands supporting his belly as a contraction hit him hard. “Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit!” he panted, trying to breathe through the pain. Kevin helped him to the bathroom, his mind racing with thoughts of what to do next.

“Okay, okay, we’ve got this,” Kevin said, trying to keep his voice calm despite the panic rising in his chest. He grabbed a towel and handed it to Ben. “We need to get you to the hospital. Now!”

Ben nodded, his breaths coming in short bursts as another contraction took hold. “Call an ambulance, Kevin. It’s happening too fast!” he exclaimed, his eyes wide with fear.

Kevin didn’t need to be told twice. He dashed out of the room, his heart racing as he grabbed his phone and dialed emergency services. “My husband’s water broke! We need an ambulance right now!” he barked into the phone, his voice a mix of panic and determination.

As Ben leaned against the bathroom counter, panting through the contractions, Kevin raced around the house, grabbing their hospital bag and making sure they had everything they needed. The adrenaline coursing through him made his movements swift and precise.

“Ben, the ambulance is on its way. Just hang in there, okay?” Kevin called out, trying to keep the fear out of his voice. Ben nodded, gripping the towel between his legs to stem the flow of fluid.

“Mmmmmmmmmmmm,” Ben groaned, his body tense with each wave of pain that rolled through him. The contractions were coming closer together now, a stark reminder that their baby was ready to make its grand entrance into the world. Kevin hovered anxiously by the doorway, watching his husband and feeling utterly helpless.

The sound of sirens grew louder outside, and Kevin felt a mix of relief and dread wash over him. This was it. They were about to become parents. The reality of it all was finally setting in.

The EMTs burst through the door, and Ben’s contractions grew more intense. Kevin was a blur of action, guiding the paramedics to the bathroom, explaining the situation as calmly as he could. They quickly assessed Ben’s condition, confirming that it was indeed time to go.

“Let’s get you to the hospital, Mr. Tennyson,” one of the EMTs said, her voice firm but kind. Ben nodded, his eyes glazed with pain.

Kevin helped Ben to the stretcher, his hands shaking as he held on tightly. “You’re doing so well, baby. Just a little longer,” he whispered, kissing Ben’s forehead.

The ride to the hospital was a blur of lights and sirens, Ben’s moans of pain punctuating the tension-filled silence. Kevin held his hand, his eyes never leaving Ben’s face, willing him to be strong.

“What do we got here?” The doctor on call, a no-nonsense woman with a kind smile, took in the situation as Ben was wheeled into the hospital.

“17 year old male, approximately 9 months pregnant, water has broken, contractions 3 minutes apart,” one of the EMTs recounted as they transferred Ben’s care to the hospital staff. The doctor nodded, her eyes assessing Ben’s bulging belly and the pain etched on his face.

“Alright, let’s get you prepped for delivery,” she said, her tone calm and reassuring. Ben nodded, his eyes squeezed shut as another contraction took hold. Kevin hovered nearby, watching in awe as the medical team moved around them with a sense of urgency that was both comforting and terrifying.

In the delivery room, Ben was hooked up to monitors that beeped a steady rhythm, tracking the baby’s heartbeat and the intensity of the contractions. Kevin held Ben’s hand tightly, his own heart racing as he watched the numbers climb.

The doctor, a short, stern-looking woman with a kind smile, checked Ben’s progress. “Looks like you’re already dilating nicely. This baby’s eager to meet you both. Are you ready to push?”

Ben nodded, his face a mask of determination. He trusted Kevin implicitly, and together they had prepared for this moment. Kevin took his place beside the bed, coaching Ben through each contraction, reminding him to breathe.

“Come on, Ben. You can do this. Just like we practiced,” Kevin encouraged, his voice steady and strong. Ben’s eyes were squeezed shut, his teeth gritted as he pushed with all his might. The pain was unlike anything he had ever felt, but the love and support from Kevin helped to anchor him.

The doctor’s voice grew more urgent. “One more big push, Ben. I see the head!”

Ben’s eyes snapped open, and he bore down, his body straining with the effort. Kevin’s hand was squeezed so tight it felt like it might break, but he didn’t flinch. “Come on, Ben. You’re almost there!”

With a final, powerful push, Ben felt the baby’s head emerge, the crowning a mix of pain and relief. The doctor instructed him to stop pushing for a moment, allowing the baby’s head to stretch Ben’s body and avoid tearing. The room was tense, the air charged with anticipation.

Kevin’s eyes were glued to the doctor’s face, his grip on Ben’s hand unyielding. “Almost there, Ben. You’re so close,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. Ben’s eyes searched for Kevin’s, finding strength in their shared gaze.

On the next contraction, Ben pushed with every ounce of energy he had, and with a final, triumphant cry, their baby slipped into the world. The doctor caught the squirming bundle, and the room erupted into a cacophony of noise: the baby’s first wail, the doctor’s instructions to the nurses, and the rapid beeping of the heart monitor.

Kevin’s vision blurred with tears as he watched the doctor lift their child into the air, the umbilical cord still attached. “It’s a boy!” she exclaimed, and the gravity of the moment hit him like a ton of bricks. They had a son.

“Kenny?” Ben whispered, his voice hoarse from the exertion of birth. Kevin nodded, his eyes shimmering with unshed tears. “Kenny Levensque,” he confirmed, his voice choking with emotion. They had chosen the name together, a blend of their surnames that signified their unity and love.

#mpreg #birth kink #giving birth #mpreg story #mpreg birth #pregnant man #mpreg kink

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sinner-sunflower · 6 months

Text

A HH Lucifer-centric AU 14/?

PART 1, PART 2, PART 3, PART 4, PART 5, PART 6, PART 7, PART 8, PART 9, PART 10, PART 11, PART 12, PART 13, PART 15, PART 16, PART 17, PART 18, PART 19, PART 20, PART 21, PART 22

The next part might be a pov from the hotel with Charlie and co.

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

It's not going well.

Everyone is close to their breaking points. Lucifer curses under his breath as another overlord and a Goetia pass out.

They've been performing the ritual for 4 hours straight and every time they manage to possibly succeed, a stronger wave comes out- the worsening poison of the miasma sure isn't making things easier.

His infection throbs.

Paimon: My Lord! Another Goetia has fallen!

Asmodeus: We're losing numbers, Luci! We should retreat for now!

Lucifer: No! We can't afford to lose a Ring.

Shit! Even with Goodie's powers, it's not enough. Lucifer begins to think that maybe he should've tried with Heaven- No. He shakes his head. Heaven would rather sacrifice humanity if it would mean destroying all of Hell.

Lucifer: Goodie!

Goodie: I cannot give more of something I do not have, angel. I warned you that my support alone will most likely not stop this.

Lucifer: We should at least be denting it!

At that moment, the sea of flowers let out piercing howls bringing everyone to a stop, hands flying up to their ears to block the noise. Lucifer himself felt his own ears bleed from the sound.

Dark roots began to move upward, carrying the screaming flowers to the skies. It went up until it reached the giant pentagram in the sky, essentially forming a giant tree. Some sort of whole then opened itself up at the bottom- like it's giving way. Like it's-

Lucifer: A door.

Someone beside Lucifer yelled for him.

Leviathan: Luci! Your marks!

When he gave the Sin of Envy a confused look, Alastor summoned a mirror for him to use. The radio demon's smile never leaves his face but Lucifer can see it strained.

Alastor: Sire, it seems that I have lost in being the first to devour you in your entirety.

Lucifer ignores the TV guy's indignant 'what the fuck?!!' in the background, instead he focuses on his reflection. It looks like Alastor was talking literally and not making a weird innuendo.

The infection he got from touching Roo's remnants has now reached his face. His right eye has turned black from the infection, and it's slowly making its way to the left.

The King doesn't feel it until he sees it. He vaguely hears Belphegor's cries, noises of disbelief, and the pained groans of the demons around him.

There's still a way.

Lucifer: Goodie. What do I need to do?

The Good of Humanity produces a piece of paper and blows it in Lucifer's direction. It melted to his skin as soon as it made contact.

Goodie: This might be the only way to stop my sister. That is an ancient seal from before the Nothing- strong enough to render God and beings like Roo weak.

Satan: Huh?! Then why didn't you just let us use that from the start??

Goodie: Because there is a condition.

Lucifer: And what's that?

He asks but he has a feeling he already knows.

Goodie: It must be performed from the inside. It needs to be as close as possible to the one you are sealing. The hold will be stronger with proximity. And with you being the highest power here...

Belphegor: Then that means-!

Lucifer: I need to be the one to go in there.

Immediately after he said it out loud, multiple protests erupted. The Sins are trying to talk him out of it while Paimon and a few Goetia are yelling at Goodie.

Mammon: Mate, this is fucked-

Satan: I'll go to Heaven myself if I have-

Belphegor: There must be another way-

Asmodeus: We'll save our strength. Lust can handle-

Beelzebub: You're crazy! You're gonna die-

Leviathan: I am not letting you go on this suicide mission, Luci!-

All the while, he and Goodie never broke eye contact. Lucifer stares, looking for something he doesn't really know in her expression. He raises his hands and everyone quiets.

Lucifer: Are you sure this will stop her?

Goodie: You are the key, angel. It must be you.

Lucifer finally looks at the camera in the sky. It had been there the whole time, probably by the TV demon. He thinks of his little girl who is probably watching with worry at the safety of the hotel. He can only hope that his next course of action won't hurt her in the long run.

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

that's suspicious.

that's weird.

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justira-creates · 2 years

Photo

their backstory during Water 7 killed me. old comic from 2008.

tumblr absolutely murdered the image quality, much better quality on my AO3!

ID under the cut

[ID: A vertical, wordless comic without panel borders depicted entirely in blue ink on a white background, titled “Franky’s First Cola” with a small cartoonish speedo under the title.

Image 1 contains one large panel.

Panel 1: Iceburg and Franky are depicted at ages 12 and 16, respectively, in their workshop at Tom’s workers. Franky’s desk is scattered with doodles and blueprints for Battle Frankys. He is asleep on his drafting table, his pen in his hand, drooling, snoring loudly, depicted with a speech bubble of a log being sawed. Iceburg, his work area pristine, is glaring at him. The paper in front of Iceburg is blank; he's been completely unable to work due to Franky's loud snoring.

Image 2 contains four panels.

Panel 2: Iceburg, in profile, looks like he’s attempting to concentrate, head propped on one hand.

Panel 3: Franky continues to snore loudly, this time depicted with a speech bubble showing a buzzing bee.

Panel 4: Closeup of Iceburg’s eyes from the front, glaring to the side in Franky’s direction.

Panel 5: Overhead shot of their workstations, Franky still snoring at his messy desk. Iceburg’s neat desk has its chair shoved away, empty.

Image 3 has five panels.

Panel 6: Iceburg is checking the fridge, hand on one hip.

Panel 7: Iceburg yells to the residence in general that he’s going shopping, indicated with a speech bubble showing a stick figure of Iceburg receiving a bag of groceries in exchange for money.

Panel 8: Franky, miraculously and suddenly awake, pops around the corner, eyes wide.

Panel 9: Tom calls out that they need fish (cartoon fish in his speech bubble). He is holding a hammer, mid-job.

Panel 10: Kokoro says there’s a shopping list (speech bubble of a piece of paper indicating various food items). She is chopping carrots.

Image 4 has five panels.

Panel 11: Iceburg is on his way out the door, one hand on the doorknob and the other hand holding the shopping list in front of his face as he inspects it. Franky, much shorter, tugs on his shirt and says he wants to come with (speech bubble with a cartoon Iceburg with horns and a pitchfork and a grocery bag plus a cartoon figure of Franky)

Panel 12: Iceburg looks annoyed.

Panel 13: Franky looks stubborn.

Panel 14: Iceburg hunches his shoulders with a frown, looking put-upon.

Panel 15: Iceburg calls over his shoulder that Franky’s coming with him (speech bubble with non-devilish cartoon Iceburg and shopping bag plus a cartoon Franky with horns and a pitchfork)

Image 5 has three panels.

Panel 16: Kokoro, offscreen, yells that Franky needs to put on shorts (speech bubble with an angelic cartoon Franky plus a pair of shorts). Franky is still holding onto Iceburg’s shirt, looking in Kokoro’s direction. Iceburg, one hand still on the doorknob, is looking down at where Franky is holding onto him and frowning.

Panel 17: Franky yells back at Kokoro that he’s going in his speedo, shaking his fist (speech bubble with speedo and multiple exclamation marks). Iceburg has put the shopping list in his mouth and is attempting to detach Franky from his shirt.

Panel 18: Kokoro, still offscreen, throws a pair of shorts in Franky’s face (speech bubble with shorts and many exclamation marks), causing Franky to fall over, still attached to Iceburg’s shirt, and take Iceburg down with him. Iceburg yells an drops the shopping list from his mouth as he's falling.

Image 6 has a divider followed by three panels

-- a divider of alternating cartoon speedos and shorts --

Panel 19: Iceburg is carrying a bag of groceries. A little behind him, Franky is kicking a rock, wearing shorts and looking dejected, hands in his pockets.

Panel 20: Iceburg frowns back at Franky, looking thoughtful.

Panel 21: Closeup of Franky pouting, in profile, hands in his pockets.

Image 7 has three panels.

Panel 22: Closeup: Iceburg’s gaze slides to the side.

Panel 23: A wooden hanging sign saying COLA, read vertically, with a dark bottle of cola next to the word.

Panel 24: Closeup of Iceburg’s lower face, just visible above the bag of groceries. He is smiling ever so slightly.

Image 8 has two panels.

Panel 25: A faded wider shot of Iceburg, facing away from Franky, handing a cola back to Franky, behind him. Franky’s body language indicates he’s taken aback. In the faded style, they lack facial features.

Panel 26: A faded closeup shot of Iceburg’s hand, holding the cola, and Franky’s hand reaching for it, about to grasp it and take it.

The word "End" is at the bottom.

/end ID]

#one piece #franky #iceburg #opgraphics #op fanart #cyborg franky #water seven #water 7 #art #fanart #comics #fan comics #justira

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fuck-customers · 11 months

Note

Fuck being a manager. It sucks. Is it worth the pay raise? Unsure.

Side note I'm the kind of manager who is also like fuck management, fuck corporate, the employees deserve more recognition bc they're doing the work, that kind of thing.

But customers will find out you're a manager and instantly complain about whatever bullshit they pick that day.

Some dumb shit I've heard:

1. Cashier was too fast

2. Cashier was too slow

3. Cashier wasn't fluent in Spanish (we are in Connecticut) the cashier in question knew enough to get by.

4. The fish was too expensive and I specifically should mark it down bc its "just fish"?

5. The ground beef was too bloody (???)

6. Not enough parking spaces close to the doors cuz I def have control over that

7. Someone who does not have a handicap sticker parked in the handicap spot (pls don't do that but also wtf am I supposed to do)

8. A baby is being too loud and I need to kick them out (no way. At this point the baby was singing the ABCs and not screaming so it was cute actually stfu)

9. There's dust on this shelf so everything here must me expired (the bottom shelf gets dusty bc sweeping.)

10. The card reader is too loud

11. The construction outside is too loud

12. We don't sell (insert product here) and I must have control over orders (i dont)

13. A customer smells like weed and I should kick them out (no)

14. Its too hot. Or too cold. Or too dry. Or too whatever.

15. The cream cheese was too high on the shelf

16. The red light in the intersection outside takes too long

17. A customer smells like they haven't showered in months and I need to kick them out (no)

18. We don't sell loose lemons only in the bag of 5. Cuz I have control over our merch.

19. The carts are too loud and squeaky

20. They don't like seeing employees cleaning anything how dare they sweep during open hours.

So many more but I hit 20.

Like what is it that makes a customer want to bitch about anything at all to a manager? Why can't you tell me that the cashier was nice so that I can leave a note for my boss? These things don't fucking matter at all usually. I'll handle a co plaint if its valid. If its bs like this I'm gonna just ignore it. Maybe write it down to send it to this blog.

Fuck. I'm over it. Tell me what we're doing right for once okay?

Also sorry if some shit didn't make sense I currently have a fever and nothing is coming out right

I hope you feel better soon.

-Rodney

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introvertllux · 5 months

Text

Chrono Heart (Future Trunks X Black!OC)

*I DO NOT OWN/CLAIM TO OWN ANYTHING IN RELATION TO DBZ. I ONLY CLAIM THE ORIGINAL STORY IDEA AND BLACK!OC IN THIS STORY!*

Chapter 1: The Relic and the Reawakening

The remnants of Dr. Gero’s lab were a graveyard of twisted metal and shattered dreams, a monument to the hubris of a man who played god with circuits and steel. Hidden beneath this forsaken ruin, a capsule hissed open, and from its depths, a figure emerged—Axa. With skin like polished ebony, eyes that shimmered with the golden light of a thousand captured stars, and hair that cascaded down in an untamed torrent, she was a sight to behold—beauty crafted by ambition, innocence shaped by design.

:readmore:

She stood, hesitantly, in the dim light of her metallic tomb, a stark contrast to the vividness of her form. Her limbs moved with an elegance that was almost haunting, yet her expression held the innocence of a child looking out upon the world for the first time.

Unbidden, Axa's body propelled her through the labyrinth of the city, every calculation in her head leading her to an encounter she did not understand. It was as if an invisible hand guided her to a serene park, where the familiar silhouette of Android 18 stood, lost in the simplicity of feeding ducks at the pond—a moment of peace in a life so often marked by conflict.

Axa’s presence cast a shadow over the tranquility, and 18 turned, her eyes widening in shock and recognition. "Axa? Is it really you?" she gasped, the breadcrumbs slipping from her fingers.

Their reunion was explosive—a symphony of fists and flashes of shared history. As they sparred, 18, amidst parries and takedowns, called out to the essence of the girl she once knew.

"Remember when we sparred with 16 in the orchard, the cherry blossoms falling around us like snow?" she grunted, dodging a swift punch. "Or the time we snuck into the city, 17 dared us to ride the rollercoaster and you laughed until you cried?"

Each word struck Axa deeper than any physical blow could, unlocking the sealed doors of her memory. "And that night, the four of us lay in the grass, making shapes out of stars, dreaming of freedom," 18 continued, her voice laced with nostalgia, even as she blocked a kick. "But then you were gone. Gero said you were defective, but you were just... you were just Axa. You were just a little girl, and I... we, I should have done something."

Tears spilled from Axa's eyes, liquid diamonds trailing down her face, an alien sensation that stopped her cold. Her hands came up to her face, fingers trembling as she touched the moisture with wonder. "What... what is this?" she whispered, her voice breaking.

"It's crying, Axa," 18 replied with a bittersweet chuckle, the fight draining from her. "It happens when you're sad... or happy... or even when you laugh so hard, you can't stop. It means you're alive."

Axa's golden gaze, now dulled by confusion and sorrow, met 18's. "I don't... I don't understand," she said, a lost child wrapped in the shell of a machine.

"I know," 18 said, stepping forward to wrap an arm around her. "I forgot to search for you when I found my own life. But now I’m here, and I'll help you. Let me show you the life I've built. You’ll fit right in. Krillin, my husband, Marron, our daughter—they'll love you."

The promise of a family warmed something inside Axa, a spark of belonging that she didn't know she needed.

_____________________________________________________________

The scene shifted to the familial home, where the spark was met with a torrent of fear and misunderstanding.

The home that once held warmth and laughter was now a battlefield of words and emotions. The cozy living room, with its family photos and children's drawings, became the arena. Krillin's face was flushed with a mix of protective fear and incandescent rage. "18, how in the world could you think this was okay? Bringing her into our home without even a word to me?" His voice shook the very foundations of their sanctuary, a volume reserved for life-and-death battles, not familial disputes.

"You're not getting it, Krillin!" 18 shot back, her own voice a force to be reckoned with. "You think I can't see danger? I know danger. I've been danger. But she—" 18 jabbed a finger towards Axa, "—is just lost. We owe her this!"

Marron, with the blissful ignorance of childhood, had wandered over to Axa, offering a small stuffed dinosaur with a smile. "Do you wanna play with Mr. Dino?" she had asked, her voice a sing-song note in the dissonant symphony of the adults' conflict.

Krillin's eyes darted from Marron to Axa, and with a speed that betrayed his martial prowess, he scooped Marron into his arms. "Marron, sweetie, why don't you go play in your room, okay?" His words were gentle with his daughter, but when his gaze swung back to Axa, they were steel blades. "Stay away from her," he snapped at Axa. "We don't know you, what you're capable of—what if you're programmed to…to…"

His words trailed off, but the accusation hung heavily in the air, an invisible smog choking the room. Axa, who stood like a statue wrought from onyx, felt each word strike her. Her hands, which moments ago had explored the texture of the child's toy, now hung limply at her sides. The shine in her golden eyes dulled, a gloss of pain over the brightness.

"Krillin," 18's voice cracked like a whip, her anger transforming into something fierce and protective. "Listen to yourself! She’s not a threat! How can you judge her like this?"

The silence that followed was suffocating. Axa's soft, disbelieving sobs were the only sound, a heartbreaking melody that seemed to wrap around the room. She blinked rapidly, her human-like innocence clashing with her android perfection as she attempted to process the whirlwind of rejection and anger.

"I… I don't want to be a problem," Axa stammered out, her voice a mere whisper but slicing through the tension. "I didn't mean to cause trouble. I'm sorry."

Krillin, his face softening for a moment at Axa's words, struggled with the turmoil inside him. His duty to protect his family warring with the empathy he had learned from his wife. "18, I…," he started, but the words tangled, a mess of emotion and duty.

"No," 18 interrupted, her eyes glistening with unshed tears of frustration. "No, Krillin. She's not just some android. She's Axa. Remember that. She's not the past; she’s someone who needs us now."

In the quiet that followed, the trio stood, the balance of their world shifted, as they each considered the weight of what it meant to be family, to be human, or something akin to it. Axa, still caught in the eye of the storm, dared to hope for a harbor in this tempest—a place where she could anchor her heart.

The turmoil in the room reached a crescendo, a tidal wave of emotion that crashed over Axa with overwhelming force. As Krillin and Android 18's argument continued, Axa's mind began to fracture under the strain. She clutched at her temples, her golden eyes flickering erratically as memories—long suppressed—surged to the surface.

She was small again, diminutive and human, watching through the bars of a crib as giants in white coats and stern faces argued loudly above her. The cacophony of their voices was terrifying, a discordant symphony that crescendoed into an unbearable din. Words like "potential" and "failure" were thrown back and forth, volleying over her head like some high-stakes game she could not comprehend.

Her breath hitched, a robotic mimicry of a panic attack, and her body began to seize up. Her limbs locked in place, and the glow in her eyes sputtered like a dying star. "System… overload…" she managed to gasp out before collapsing like a puppet with its strings cut, her form going limp and unresponsive on the floor.

"18, we need to do something!" Krillin's voice was now tinged with fear for Axa, the protective instinct he felt for all living beings—especially those under his roof—kicking in.

18 knelt beside Axa, her fingers hovering over the android's inert body. Her heart, though not flesh and blood, ached with a mix of fear and protectiveness. "Dammit," she cursed softly, her usual composure fraying at the edges.

Krillin ran a hand through his hair, his eyes darting from his wife to the still figure on the floor. "Maybe… we should take her to see Bulma. She's dealt with… this kind of thing before."

Android 18's eyes narrowed at the suggestion. "Bulma has a good heart, but she's got that scientist's curiosity. She'll want to dissect every part of Axa's programming," she said, her voice a growl of resistance. "And Vegeta…" she trailed off, a scowl creasing her features at the thought of the Saiyan prince's unpredictable nature.

Krillin nodded slowly, understanding his wife's concerns. "We don't have to tell everyone, just Bulma. She'll know what to do," he insisted, his tone imploring. "Vegeta won't lay a finger on her—I'll deal with him if I have to."

The two locked eyes, a silent conversation passing between them. It was a gamble, but Axa needed help that they couldn't give. With a heavy heart, 18 agreed. "Fine. But we're not leaving her side. Not for a second."

Carefully, they gathered Axa's motionless form, her weight a testament to the gravity of their situation. Together, they stepped into the cool evening air, the weight of Axa's fate a heavy shroud upon their shoulders as they made their way to Capsule Corporation, and into the uncertain future that awaited them.

______________________________________________________________

More on Axa (Pronounced: Axe-e-ah or Ahh-x-ah)

*Apologies for inconsistent art styles. I utilized Art breeder. Unfortunately I don't see many resources to help create black!Ocs in consistent styles and diverse poses out there. If you know of any please let me know! As you continue reading the story imagine her in the DBZ art style. Thank you!*

____________________________________________________________

Taglist!

@thejadetrios @shytothemaxx @variousfandom @konekomews @physicallyherementallysomewhere @ikittybakugou345 @jasxnoamii @enderempresss16 @elliethewitch @carzychameleon @feitanii @hollownight @dragonloverdrawer @moonlight445sblog @yelan-butterpeatea @ringsofpersonti @weeb-boy261 @jkr820 @somehowexist @scrumptiouss007 @emajohn40 @justicetheghost @thirstyhoebutbetteryehsjsg @rasaberrygray @etherialblackrose @random-insomnia15 @deviousmunchkin @galaxys-stuff @bluehibiscusgarden @kunoichis-world @x-bakudeku-x @spectoralstrudel @i-wanna-fuck-monsters @interobanginyourmom @twdhtgawm @kkeidawrites

#black!reader #black!oc #black reader #trunks x black!reader #dbz #dragon ball super #dragon ball #vegeta dragon ball #trunks briefs #son goku #dbz x black!reader #dbz x reader #dbz cell #android 17 #android 18 #son goten #orginal character #orginal story

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thecomicallytragicgangle · 11 months

Text

[It is done]

[mod note: this is temporarily replacing the link to magma (the art drawing thing we have so we can draw together!) as pinned post so heres the link: https://magma.com/d/zzg8vd99i2]

[the reason gangle isnt included is because she went to go get snacks totally not because i forgot to draw her. nope]

[credits to shard anon, @theoneandonlysun, and the mod of zooble's blog for majority help! @eeboshmeebo also contributed to the art!!][if you helped with the art and you wanna be credited, message me please, because i might've missed you? a lot of people swung by i just wanna make sure i credit them all]

[behold....]

[TA DAH!!! below the read more thing is the list of people featured + pings (sorry yall, i just wanna make sure you see art,,)]

[btw, bonus: @easton-likes-sandwiches my bad i couldn't include you (since easton is kinda. not in digital land.) but here ya go, a bonus!]

1: @rook-specter [i hope i drew you correctly, i couldn't really find a sona to use]

2: @the-moth-from-elsewhere [btw i know you wanted to add details but imo i think it looks fine like this,,thanks for some of the help and support, though!!]

3: pickle anon [unsure if they have a blog, so i can't @]

4: shard anon!! [also unsure if they have a blog, but they helped alot!! ty ty]

5: @unfunnyaceartist [OK i know you only appeared for a bit but you agreed to move night.,,and your sona looks cool..so..obilgatory appearance in the art!]

6: @sugarcane-soup [I DIDNT KNOW HOW TO COLOR YOUR SONA,,i hope i did well]

7: @zooooble [zoob...]

8 and 9: [@askobjects firey and leafy look so goofy in this image,, i hope you like them]

10: @sign-anon [in the middle of drawing this i did NOT know sign anon died..whoops?]

11: @boldtextanon [bold text anon is fine guys. Hes fine. i swear]

12: @yougotjinx3d [mage anon and vamp anon were drawn by sun if i remember correctly, so erm..ya!! they're silly people]

13: @bloodforvampanon [me when i GET YOU. but fr. silly guy]

14: crownon! [unsure if they have a blog, but erm..crow]

15: eepy anon!! [also unsure if they have a blog..they literally look so silly its crazy]

16: rat [you know who you are /silly]

17: @gummy-axolotl [I HOPE I GOT THE COLORS RIGHT,,HERE YOU GO!!!]

18: @liloblogs [im gonna be fr we got this close to confusing lilo with juko,,,im not very great at oc lore. but lilo is so silly]

19: panic anon! [i think they're also the same blog as lilo? unsure. but yea!! they are goofy and silly and probably terrified of the horror movies]

20: @justadustymoth [MOTh. moth,,,,, moths are so silly. like. fr..]

21: bow anon! [idk if you have a blog but i hope you like the design!!!!]

22: @squirrelboi [I DIDNT KNOW IF YOU HAD A SONA SO I USED YOUR PFP...I HOPE THATS OKAY]

23: @eeboshmeebo [there was barely any room so i could only include a mask,,but i hope thats okay!! also ty for help on the mask]

24: @kiwidragon [I HOPE I DREW THE DRAGON OK..IVE NEVER DRAWN DRAGONS HGHJFJFJF AND IDK THE SIZE COMPARISON..]

25: FISH. ANON.. [you got included last minute HGKDHJSHJSHS but . fish]

26: @lightthepathwithalantern [i hope i drew lantern anon okay,,,they're so cool looking,,,]

27: @spapman [I ALSO HOPE I DREW YOUR SONA OKAY,,, AHHFHGFHDHJD

28: @ru-bwee [thank you for. the plush images. I will use them to mark important events /silly]

29: @bob-the-cemetery-ghost [Oh no,,,also i hope you dont mind being a bit in the background i didnt know how else to include youuu]

[literal walls of text,,hope yall dont mind all the @]

[THANK YOU ALL FOR BEING HERE,,HGHDJSJDFDD!!!!]

[erm,,if yall don't mind,,i hate asking but reblogs please ? i wanna see the art around !!!!]

#the amazing digital circus #tadc gangle #ask blog #tadc #ooc #art #collab art #artwork #digital art

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seeminglyranch87 · 2 months

Text

Taylor & Travis Timeline

July 2024 - Part 2

July 13 - The Tortured Poets Department to spend its 12th consecutive week at #1 on the Billboard 200!

Travis Kelce is seen dancing along to Taylor songs while competing in the American Century Championship charity golf tournament in Lake Tahoe, Nevada. A member of the crowd shouts out "It's alright, you still got Taylor!" to which Travis replies "you ain't lying there."

The Eras Tour, San Siro Stadium, Milan, Italy N1

Taylor debuts a Fearless Era costume made by Italian Roberto Cavalli and a new version of the TTPD gown with lyrics from Who's Afraid of Little Old Me?

Wonderland x The One (guitar) & I Almost Do x The Moment I Knew (piano) Swallow a bug version!!!

The crowd sing "Sei Bellissima" (you are very beautiful) to Taylor during the acoustic section and hold up signs saying "We are enchanted to meet you after 13 years" during Enchanted.

July 14 - Travis Kelce's final day competing in the American Century Championship charity golf tournament in Lake Tahoe, Nevada.

The Eras Tour, San Siro Stadium, Milan, Italy N2.

Taylor wore a new mauve gown for the Speak Now era.

Mr Perfectly Fine x Red (guitar) & Getaway Car x Out Of The Woods (piano)

July 17 - The Eras Tour, Veltins-Arena, Gelsenkirchen, Germany N1

Superstar x Invisible String (guitar) & False God x Slut! (Piano)

“We’ll still worship this love even if they call me a slut!”

KitTay - during Midnight Rain.

Travis attends his 13th show

Taylor & Travis leave the stadium together (x x)

Taylor Nation promoting our favourite couple...

July 18 - The Eras Tour, Veltins-Arena, Gelsenkirchen, Germany N2

Speak Now x Hey Stephen (guitar) & This Is Me Trying x Labyrinth (piano)

“Would they write a song for you? NOPE!” (x)

“I Just wanted you to know I’m falling in love” (x)

Travis attends his 14th show.

Taylor & Travis leave the stadium together (x)

Once again Taylor Nation on the Tayvis train...

July 19 - The Eras Tour, Veltins-Arena, Gelsenkirchen, Germany N3

Paper Rings x Stay Stay Stay (guitar) & It’s Time To Go x Better Man (piano)

“ I like shiny things, but I'd marry you with paper rings.” “That's when you came in wearing a football helmet. “I'd like to hang out with you for my whole life. Stay & I'll be loving you for quite some time.”

July 20 - Chiefs Training Camp, St Joseph, Mo - Chiefs veterans including Travis arrive for training camp.

July 21 - Chiefs Training Camp, St Joseph, Mo | Day 1

Travis attends KC Chiefs training camp - El Travador is back with the moustache! (x)

July 22 - Chiefs Training Camp, St Joseph, Mo | Day 2

People article (x) An insider shares...

“Travis’ last few concerts were bittersweet. They knew their time together like this was coming to an end and he made sure to spend every minute he could with Taylor." Swift and Kelce's demanding schedules often force them to be in different cities, but the source says the "Fortnight" singer and the NFL star take any opportunity to spend time together as their relationship nears the one-year mark. "It’s definitely tough to be apart but they do everything they can to make it work and show up for each other," the source shares. "They’re so in love and very, very happy together. All their friends and family can see it.”

July 23 - The Eras Tour, Volksparkstadion, Hamburg, Germany. N1 Rain show

📸 Gregor Fischer, 23 July 2024

Teardops On My Guitar x The Last Time (guitar) & We Were Happy x Happiness (piano)

Chiefs Training Camp, St Joseph, Mo | Day 3

STOP... This is adorable!

July 24 - The Eras Tour, Volksparkstadion, Hamburg, Germany N2

📸 Gregor Fischer, 24 July 2024

Last Great American Dynasty x Run (guitar) & Nothing New x Dear Reader (piano)

So many people in the audience with lit up balloons during Willow

Chiefs Training Camp, St Joseph, Mo | Day 4

Go to previous update -> July 2024 part 1

Go to next update -> July 2024 part 3

Return to the timeline

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thecreaturecodex · 8 months

Text

Scalescribe

[I quite like the scalescribe, as I always appreciate it when aberrations aren't just tentacled horrors. Sometimes they're funny little guys. The caster bond/transcribe scroll is a neat mechanical effect that's in the PF2e original, but it really works best if the spellcaster goes out adventuring while the scalescribe stays behind and reads and writes. Which I think suits the scalescribes just fine.]

Scalescribe CR 3 N Aberration This strange creature resembles a snake with eight spindly arms, each ending in a delicate, human-like hand. It has five eyes arranged in a cross on its face, a fleshy hood growing over its face. Its jaws are wide, but nearly toothless. Its body is decorated with scraps of text, some single letters, others entire paragraphs in a dense hand.

Scalescribes are strange magical creatures that are obsessed with words and language. They tend to live in libraries, temples to gods of knowledge, and other places where there are lots of books. The words on their bodies are extracts from what they have read, and shift over the weeks as they encounter new writings. Scalescribes may be sought out as sages, or by spellcasters who want to use their abilities to manipulate magic writing.

A scalescribe would rather not fight if it can help it, and their bodies are not much suited for combat. Their most powerful attack is the ability to charge a written character with magical force and fire it like an arrow. They cannot do this at will, however, and usually bolster these attacks with spells cast from scrolls or jabbing with the quills they always carry. Such jabs deal little damage, but carry a creeping stain of magical ink. If they are targeted with a spell they haven’t seen before, or one that the scalescribe thinks might be tactically useful, they will attempt to copy it onto a temporary scroll so they can use it themselves.

This ability to copy and reuse spells is what makes scalescribes so valuable to spellcasters. If the scalescribe chooses, it can allow another creature to cast that spell, even crossing spell lists in order to do so. A scalescribe is most likely to use this ability if it judges the other creature “clever”, which it determines by playing word games and quizzing vocabulary. A creature that can teach a scalescribe a word it doesn’t know is likely to make a fast friend.

Scalescribe CR 3 XP 800 N Tiny aberration Init +3; Senses darkvision 60 ft., Perception +11

Defense AC 17, touch 11, flat-footed 13 (+2 size, +3 Dex, +1 dodge, +1 natural) hp 27 (5d8+5) Fort +2, Ref +4, Will +8 Defensive Abilities lettered

Offense Speed 20 ft. Melee quill +8 (1d3-2/18-20 plus inkstain) Ranged morpheme glyph +8 (3d6 force) Space 2 ½ ft.; Reach 0 ft.

Spell-like Abilities CL 5th, concentration +6 At will—arcane mark, detect magic, read magic 3/day—comprehend languages (self only) 1/day—dispel magic, secret page

Statistics Str 6, Dex 17, Con 12, Int 19, Wis18, Cha 13 Base Atk +3; CMB +4; CMD 13 (cannot be tripped) Feats Dodge, Magical Aptitude, Scribe Scroll (B), Weapon Finesse Skills Climb +10,Craft (calligraphy) +8, Knowledge (arcana, history) +11, Linguistics +11, Perception +11, Sense Motive +11, Spellcraft +13, Stealth +18, Use Magic Device +7 Languages Aklo, Common, Draconic, 4 others SQ caster bond, intellectual, scroll use, transcribe spell

Ecology Environment urban Organization solitary or scriptorium (2-5) Treasure standard

Special Abilities Caster Bond (Su) A scalescribe can form a bond with any creature with spellcasting levels by performing a ritual that requires 1 hour of concentration, usually done while the other creature is preparing spells. A prepared caster can prepare the spell carried on that scalescribe’s transcribed scroll, and a spontaneous caster can treat that spell as if they knew it for that day. This can allow a caster to cast a spell that is not on their spell list, as long as it belongs to the same tradition of magic (arcane, divine or occult). This lasts for 24 hours, or until the scalescribe uses its transcribed scroll or transcribes a new scroll. If a prepared caster loses access to a spell in this way, the spell slots that had this spell become open. Inkstain (Su) A creature struck by a scalescribe’s quill takes 1d4 points of damage per round for the next 10 rounds. This can be removed by any healing spell with a successful DC 13 caster level check, or by any effect that removes or delays poison without a check. An erase spell removes the inkstain without a caster level check. This is a poison effect, and is an ability of the scalescribe, not the quill. Intellectual (Ex) A scalescribe treats all Knowledge checks and Linguistics as if they were class skills. Lettered (Ex) A scalescribe gains a +4 racial bonus on all saving throws against glyphs, symbol spells and spells and effects with the language descriptor. Morpheme Glyph (Su) As a standard action, a scalescribe can draw a magical syllable in the air and fire it at an opponent. Treat this as a ranged attack with a range of 40 feet and no range increment. A creature struck takes 3d6 points of force damage. A scalescribe can use this ability once every 1d4 rounds. Quill (Ex) A scalescribe treats any quill it carries as if it were a rapier it was proficient with. Scroll Use (Ex) A scalescribe can use spells from scrolls as if the spell was on its spell list. Transcribe Spell (Su) As an immediate action when targeted by a spell with verbal components, a scalescribe can attempt to copy down the spell into a variant scroll. The scalescribe must succeed a Spellcraft check (DC 15 + twice the spell’s level) to successfully copy the spell, and is still affected by the spell whether it succeeds or fails at this check. If it succeeds, the scalescribe creates a scroll of that spell that only it can use. A scalescribe can only have one transcribed scroll at a time.

#scalescribe #pathfinder 1e #pathfinder 2e #aberration

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macbethsymphony · 3 months

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The Swordsman and the Blacksmith | Chapter 23

Roronoa Zoro x Reader

Chapter wc: 2.5k

Chapter rating: SFW

Content/Warnings: NSFW, 18+, Fem!Reader, Enemies to lovers, SLOW slow burn, Eventual smut

Summary: Your skills as a blacksmith have made you desirable to both the government and pirates. You know you have to leave this island if you want to escape your fate, but that doesn't make the choice of leaving any easier. Roronoa Zoro is intrigued by your skills as a blacksmith. Your work is like nothing he's ever seen before. Unfortunately, you're hot-headed and he's rude and you both definitely hate each other.

Chapters [1][2][3][4][5][6][7][8][9][10][11][12][13][14][15][16][17][18][19][20][21][22]

Masterlist

Slowly crossposting from AO3

Chapter 23: The Storm

As you extinguished the fires of your forge, you couldn't help but feel a twinge of satisfaction mixing with the deep exhaustion plaguing your muscles. This marked the end of a relentless cycle, a ceaseless endeavor of reforging and improving the damaged parts of the Thousand Sunny. With each swing of the hammer and every molten weld, you had poured your sweat and determination into the task. Now, as the final embers flickered and died, you knew that you had done all you could for the repairs. What remained would have to rest in Franky's capable hands.

Leaving the warmth of the forge behind, you stepped out into the cool, humid air, raindrops cascading down from the darkened sky above. You’d actually always thought you liked rain, with its soothing patter and calm atmosphere, but this incessant deluge had begun to wear on your nerves. The constant dampness seeped into your clothes, clinging to you like an unwelcome companion, making it all harder to scrub the ashes from your skin. You didn’t pretend that your hair was ever that well kept, but now your locks rebelled in unruly tangles, a testament to the relentless onslaught of moisture. Oh, how you missed dry socks, a distant luxury you could only dream of amidst the sodden landscape.

With a heavy sigh, you cast a weary glance towards the sky, the dark clouds serving as a somber reminder of the unending challenges that still lay ahead. The rain had become a hindrance, impeding yours and Franky’s progress in repairing the ship. You constantly had to move tarp after tarp, erect tent after tent and still, you battled the puddling water. Yet, despite the frustrations and setbacks, you pressed on, the crew driven by a determination to set out to sea once again.

With a swift motion, you swept aside the heavy waxed canvas of the tent before you, revealing Franky and Usopp diligently at work within.

“Oh! Firecracker!” The enthusiastic voice of the cyborg greeted you as you let the bag in your hands fall to the floor with a clang. “Is that the last of it?”

“Damn right it is,” you replied proudly, a surge of satisfaction coursing through you.

Usopp rummaged through the bag, examining the contents with keen interest. “Impressive,” he remarked, holding up a piece of black metal between his fingers. “I can’t believe how quickly you work. We would have been stuck here for months without you.”

A blush crept up your cheeks, accompanied by a bashful smile at the unexpected praise. “Just doing my part,” you chuckled, unable to hide the warmth in your tone.

Franky stood up, his massive hand reaching out to ruffle your hair affectionately. “You’ve done more than just help, Firecracker. You've been a lifesaver,” he declared, his voice filled with genuine gratitude. “Take a breather. You've earned it.”

You snorted, a wry smile playing on your lips as you rolled your shoulder, attempting to alleviate the tension knotted in your back. "I wish," you sighed, the weariness evident in your tone, "but I still have a stubborn swordsman to assist."

As you spoke, a gust of wind blew through the open tent flap, carrying with it the sound of crashing waves and the faint scent of salt in the air. You glanced out at the turbulent sea, your gaze traveling to the shore where you could almost see the outline of the swordsman’s silhouette meditating over Yokubari. Even from afar, you could sense the occasional shifts in the sword’s behavior.

Franky and Usopp exchanged a knowing look before turning their attention back to you. "You'll need all the help you can get with that one," Franky remarked, a hint of amusement in his voice.

Usopp nodded in agreement. "Yeah, Zoro can be a handful when he sets his mind to something."

You chuckled, a mix of exasperation and fondness coloring your tone. "Tell me about it," you replied, shaking your head. "But he's determined, I'll give him that."

With a resigned sigh, you straightened up, the ache in your muscles a constant reminder of the physical toll the past two weeks had taken on you. But despite the fatigue, you knew there was still work to be done, repairs to complete, and a stubborn swordsman to assist.

“Let me know if you need anything else,” you called back, arm holding the flap of the tent open.

As you stepped out, you observed Zoro from a distance, a sense of unease gnawing at your insides. You watched the swordsman grapple with Yokubari’s sheathed form with developing apprehension. If you were honest, he surpassed your expectations, demonstrating remarkable proficiency with the sword, yet his relentless pursuit of mastery bordered on obsession, an obsession that sent a chill through your veins.

It took everything in you to stop yourself from taking your sword back. Despite your reservations, you knew you had to trust him. He had exhibited a similar fervor with Shiawase and Uragiri, reveling in the precarious edge of danger. It was a trait that both intrigued and unsettled you, a constant battle between admiration and concern. But you couldn’t help but worry that he might not emerge victorious from this fight, for history had proved Yokubari untamed by hands other than its creator.

You crossed the gangplank, your boots sinking into the wet sand as you approached him. The two of you had devoted every morning and evening to this endeavor since arriving on the island. His diligence was commendable, tirelessly training from dawn till dusk to grasp at the sword’s essence.

Although, at first you had had to intervene occasionally, prying the sword out of his hands, he’d eventually figured out where to draw the line when handling the steel. Your gaze met his and with a content smile, now that you were in his vicinity, he finally unsheathed Yokubari. You observed as he worked with the blade’s haki, trying to understand its unsteady rhythm, sync with it.

“Any progress?” you asked as he wrestled with a sudden surge of haki emanating from the sword.

You watched as he grappled for control. He was close. You bet he’d get it before you’d set sail again. As it became too much, he quickly let go, the steel sinking in the sand.

“It’s stubborn,” he grunted as he bent down to retrieve the blade.

You hummed in consideration as you witnessed the obstinate waves radiating from the black metal, its satisfaction in the command it exerted over the swordsman. “That would be an understatement,” you answered with a chuckle, your gaze moving back to him. “But you’re lucky, it seems to like you, swordsman. Care to tell me which part you’re struggling with today?”

“It’s like trying to reason with a wild animal,” he observed through gritted teeth, the waltz between the sword’s will and his own starting again.

Your heart sank at his words, recollections of the sword’s creation passing your mind. A wild animal… you supposed you hadn’t that far away from one in that time. You felt your nose prickle slightly as tears threatened to flood your eyes for a sliver of a moment. For an instant you hovered on the edge of memories you didn’t want to address, the menace of an ocean of feelings with no shore in sight.

Shit.

The exhaustion was really starting to get to you.

You scrunched your nose, trying to make the feeling disappear. You suppressed a heavy sigh, forcing a smile, masking the turmoil churning within. “That’s a… surprisingly good comparison.”

Zoro’s gaze flickered to you, sensing the weariness in your tone, but Yokubari quickly demanded his attention again with a sudden and powerful surge of haki, drawing his own out in a battle of wills.

You analyzed the conflict happening between the steel and the swordsman with keen eyes, trying to see how you could help him.

“You don’t have to reason with it, you know, Yokubari will always do what it wants,” you observed the complex waltz of haki before you. “You wouldn’t try to reason with the sea, instead you ride the waves, work with it the best you can.”

Your hand reached towards the blade slowly, extending your own haki to the mix, a third party to the battle raging on. The swordsman’s gaze widened slightly as he watched the way the black tendrils emanating from your hands rode out the waves, played with them, eventually made them submit and retract.

As your fingertips brushed against the steel, a shiver of reaction ran through Zoro. With a definite flinch, he pulled the sword back, his motion carrying a hint of possessiveness. Your breath caught in your throat at his response, your heart seemed to stop, then all you could hear was its terrified pulse. You hesitated, afraid to lift your gaze, fearful of what you might find reflected in his eye.

As you met his gaze, a wave of panic hit your senses, your muscles tensed. You knew that look in his eye. You’d seen it mirrored in the eyes of lesser men. Maddened men. Dead men. It sent a cold sensation in the pit of your stomach, your blood freezing in your veins.

“Give it back,” you demanded suddenly, your voice feeling distant, a hiss through clenched teeth.

“What?” He scowled, something akin to greed passing his stare. His hand inched away ever so slightly at the demand, his reaction a confirmation of your fears.

“I said give it back,” you took a step closer, panic in your eyes, the snarl twisting your mouth uncompromising. You opened and closed your hands in a futile attempt to rein in the trembling plaguing them.

“No,” he matched your step, back straight as he towered over you. His grip tightened around the handle of the sword, an unmistakable possessive gesture.

It was a gesture that struck a chord of familiarity within you, one that stirred discomfort in the depths of your being. Almost involuntarily, you superimposed the image of your mentor onto the swordsman’s stance, a haunting resemblance that wrenched your heart painfully. You sucked in a sharp breath, attempting to fend off the encroaching wave of panic threatening to overwhelm you.

Your jaw clenched, the grinding of teeth an audible testament to the turmoil raging within you. So, this was how it was going to be. The instinct to fight surged within you, overpowering any semblance of restraint. The audacity of his refusal fueled an inferno of anger, coursing through your veins like molten metal, consuming every ounce of judgement in its path.

"Give me back my fucking sword, swordsman," you spat, the words laced with venom.

A derisive scoff escaped his lips, his arrogance infuriatingly palpable. “I’m this close to figuring it out, witch. You’re not taking it back now.”

Your nostrils flared, the urge to throttle him almost overwhelming. "You think you're invincible don’t you, pirate hunter?" you seethed, your voice rising with each word. "But you're not. You're just a fool trying to wield a weapon you clearly don't deserve. Face it, you’re too fucking weak for Yokubari. So. Give. It. Back."

As soon as the words left your mouth, you knew you’d messed up, but rationality had long fallen victim to the glacial frigidity of your fears. His eye flashed dangerously, the air crackling with the intensity of the brewing storm between you. "I'm not too fucking weak," he growled, his grip on the sword tightening further, the wood creaking. “You’re the one in the way of me figuring it out.”

There were ghosts that passed your eyes for a moment, sorrow, rage. “You’re a damn fool Roronoa Zoro,” your voice was thick, the snarl on your lips bitter. “Thinking you can tame Yokubari like that. It’ll devour you whole before you even realize it.”

His gaze narrowed at your words, his jaw set in defiance. "I don't need your warnings, witch," he retorted, his tone laced with stubborn determination.

Your fists clenched at your sides, nails digging into your palms as frustration boiled within you. "You're playing with fire, Swordsman," you warned one last time.

He crouched low, his eye ablaze. "I'll master Yokubari on my own terms, whether you approve or not. Stop getting in my way.”

Before restraint could rein in your reaction, your hand surged forward, aiming for his face. But he intercepted it with lightning reflexes, his grip clamping around your wrist painfully, thwarting the blow.

"You're being a real fucking cunt, swordsman," you snapped, frustration lacing your tone. Without hesitation, your foot followed, connecting solidly with his shin, eliciting a sharp hiss of pain from him.

His hold slackened, allowing you to back away. "Damn it," he muttered, the pain evident in his voice.

You weighed your options quickly, wondered if you could be fast enough to retrieve Yokubari from his iron grasp. But the possessiveness in his gaze froze you in place.

"You want to figure it out alone? Fine." Your words hung heavy in the air, dripping with condescension. With a quick turn on your heels, you strode away, each step purposeful, yet laden with unresolved tension. "Just don't come crying to me when you lose yourself along the way!" Your voice echoed across the ship as you ascended the gangplank with determined stomps. "I just hope you fall on Yokubari and die before you go mad. For both our fucking sake."

Crossing the deck, you made your way back to where Franky and Usopp were diligently working. With a forceful motion, you pushed open the flap of the tent, your gaze ablaze with rage as it met the two men hard at work.

"Franky," your tone was terse, cutting through the air like a blade. "You don’t need me anymore, right?" you asked, your words tinged with a sense of urgency.

He responded with a small huh of confusion. "Nah, Firecracker, Usopp and I will be fine. Why?" His brow furrowed in curiosity.

You didn’t offer a reply, a determined 'good' slipping past your lips as you turned away, your resolve palpable.

"Nami," you shouted, her name loud in the damp air. "I’ll be in town for a while. Come get me if you need anything."

The navigator popped her head out of her study, a puzzled expression crossing her features. "Sure thing, (y/n)," she called back, concern lacing her tone. "Is everything alright?"

You grunted in response, striding purposefully towards the women’s quarters. "Fucking fantastic," you yelled, the frustration evident in your voice as you slammed the door shut behind you.

You swiftly packed a bag, hastily gathering what you deemed necessary before emerging once more, the weight of your decision settling heavily on your shoulders.

As you made your way back down the gangplank, you sensed the curious gazes of your crewmates following you, their concerned whispers touched your ears like the distant murmur of waves against the shore. You passed the swordsman, still engrossed in his relentless battle with Yokubari. When you saw him look at you in the periphery of your vision, you flipped him off, before finally reaching the small path that led to the quiet town nestled not too far away.

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Masterlist

#the swordsman and the blacksmith #roronoa zoro #roronoa zoro x reader #roronoa zoro x you #roronoa zoro x y/n #one piece x reader #zoro x reader #charlou writes

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