#SHES AN ADULT WOMAN TRAPPED IN THE BODY OF A LITTLE GIRL AND A LITTLE GIRL TRAPPED IN THE BODY OF AN ADULT WOMAN

[instantpansies]

CLARISSA

NEW BLORBO UNLOCKED

[ilys00ga]

you are my favorite!!!! super happy to know you are taking requests :D also i hope you are doing well♡♡

could i request a yoongi x f!reader possibly where they have a rlly bad argument and make it up and it ends really fluffy? maybe the argument could be over jealusy or this stuff ofc not in a toxic way. Thank you in advance :)

BLOWING SMOKE.

PAIR: yoongi x f reader

TAGS/WARNINGS: established relationship, producer!yoongi, yoongi fucks up real bad, hes lowk an ass in this one sorry xxx, he fixes things tho, misunderstandings with a great amount of miscommunication, reader thinks hes cheating, jealousy, angst, also fluff, a teenie tiny dusty bit of smut implications at the very end, but no smut I promise. that's it I guess?? lmk if I missed something. oh yeah this is probably full of unedited mistakes, just ignore :)

A/N: omg omg first off, THANK U I love u lots 💗 second, this matches the new fic I was already working on so akdjqjsjjs was in the mood for some good angst hehehe...although, I gotta say, this was pretty rushed cz I had a shit ton of things to do (I still do) but I tried to make it as good as I can, I hope u like it 🥹 also, ik u said 'not in a toxic way' but I think I might have gotten carried away? nothing too extreme I hope, but we all fuck up, and yoongi here is not doing any better.

PS. requests are still open! feel free to drop some in my ask box anytime :)

Loving Yoongi was like a field of cotton grass dancing with the wild wind on a fresh late spring day. But being in a relationship with him, much like any other relationship out there, wasn't always a bed of soft petals and a sky of warm sunshine.

“I'm sorry, darling. I have to stay here for another two hours. You can still come over if you want.” That was what he said over the phone, one day, when you asked whether he was free for a dinner date or not. It's been a hectic week for the both of you, two adults trapped in the hectic mess of what we call life. An unsettling bubble formed in your chest. You missed him, so, terribly much. The days went on, and it became harder for you to sit down with him for a genuine conversation or a wholesome meal. The mere thought that your relationship was heading towards one of those bland and colorless stages was heavy on your heart.

His suggestion sounded apologetic enough for you to swallow the pill entirely, so you immediately declared your agreement, grabbed your purse, then left the apartment.

On your twenty-minutes-long walk there, you made sure to grab a bottle or two of wine and some snacks, because, knowing Yoongi, he would let his body devore itself before he would feed himself a proper meal, once he's inside that studio.

Except that, all of your hopes of a hopelessly romantic night at his studio, and that uncomfortable couch he purchased specifically so he wouldn't doze off when he's supposed to work, vanished as soon as you pushed the door open and walked in.

Yoongi never said or did anything to hurt your trust, neither were you the type of lover to shed tears and break glass when they see their partner with another person. But seeing him sitting so close to the female producer you were already familiar with, their chairs almost touching as they fixed their attention on the large computers on top of his desk, that was a sight you weren't ready for. And it wouldn't have been so much of an issue to you if you weren't sitting in the same room with your boyfriend and the woman he used to hook up with on a regular basis before he got with you.

“It's good to finally see you, __.” She gave you a smile. A little, polite and genuine gesture that, in contrast to the smile you mirrored to her, made your stomach flip.

Another hour passed with you staring mindlessly at your phone screen and them doing their thing. You were on the verge of excusing yourself to leave, to maybe catch some fresh air instead of suffocating to death inside that closed space, when the girl finally stood up to leave.

You watched as she gave him a hug, her hand gently rubbing at his shoulder, before she faced you to bid her goodbye and left.

Throughout the entire thing, Yoongi didn’t spare you a glance. His back was the only thing you could see, along with the back of his head, covered with his favorite dark beanie. You thought her departure would soothe your heart and put your anxious mind to rest. That Yoongi would turn around and explain why the hell he was hanging out with her, and not with his usual team members. Except that neither of the above happened.

“I’m done here too, for the day. We can go now.” He said as he stood up from his own chair, stretching his arms and arching his body with a rough groan. You were left wondering whether you were the insane one there. Or maybe he was that blind to the chaos happening in your head at that very moment.

The words were on the tip of your tongue. You could no longer hold them back. They were too strong to be kept hidden deep inside your throat. And so, you cleared your throat and let them speak for themselves. “You never told me you still work with her.”

You paused, taking a deep breath as you anticipated an answer from him, which came rather more lightheartedly than you fancied.

“Oh, I didn't think it was worth talking about.” He said, hovering over the desk to turn the devices off.

“Really?” You tucked the tip of your finger under another one, his usual nonchalance was supposed to sooth you, reassure your heart that he only belonged to you, but it only served to stir something inside your anxious self. “But it's still something, Yoongi..”

“Darling, you were never bothered with who I work with.” He remarked.

“Because you never had history with your usual team members.” Your blunt argument, with all the bitterness it held, took the both of you off guard.

“Is this about what I think it is?” He glanced up at you again, finally catching up on the situation at hand. “Look at me. Are you upset because she was here?”

“Yes I am.. You never mentioned the fact that you still see her everyday. Were you planning on keeping that from me?”

He let out a heavy sigh. “I told you it was never a big deal, baby. That's why I didn't bring it up.”

“Yoongi, it doesn't matter what you think of it. I deserve to know this type of thing.”

He scoffed at that, his attention turning to his stuff as he started gathering them. “Baby, please. I was working. We had a project to do. It's not like I slept with her or something.”

“Did you?”

At the heavy implication of your short question, Yoongi froze in his place, unmoving. His eyes spoke of surprise and pain as he stared deeply into yours, sending a chill down your spine. You blinked, and the sound of crashing almost made you jump when he threw the headphones he was holding carelessly on the desk.

“You think I did?” He asked. Even as his voice was completely empty of amusement, he didn't raise his voice at you. “You think I slept with her?”

“I don't know.” You shrugged. “That's what I'm trying to know.”

Neither of you spoke after that. He continued staring at you, not providing an answer that could satisfy your clenching heart. Instead, and just like every single time the two of you had an argument before that, he faced his desk again and busied himself with his belongings, his movements harsher and rougher than before.

“It's better if you leave now.” He said, his voice disturbingly cold.

You wished he could say anything. Maybe snap at you for being so harsh with your judgment on him, or lay his heart out and tell you the thing you dreaded the most, that he indeed slept with her. But he didn’t. He just faced the other way and did utter a word. And so, you grabbed your purse, phone in your other hand, and walked out of the studio.

Deep in the darkness of your room, you lay on your bed, deep in thought, staring at the ceiling like it could crack open and show you the secret towards a blissfully happy love story to remedy your soul. Your string of thoughts was cut short when noise broke out in your apartment. The sound of the front door being locked and closed again.

You craned your neck to catch a glimpse of the digital clock on top of your nightstand. It was three am.

Having had this scenario happen multiple times throughout the years of your relationship with him, you left your tear stained pillow and followed the source of the noise, your boyfriend in the kitchen.

You found him bent down in front of the open fridge, his back, once again, facing you. If he didn't hear your footsteps against the floor, he definitely heard the soft sniffle you let out as you leaned against the doorframe, you were certain.

“It's three in the morning.” You stated, like it was the most important news you could give him at that very moment. He didn't spare you a glance, settling for a can of beer and pushing the door of the fridge closed with his leg. “You shouldn’t drink at this hour.”

“Good to know you care about me.” He said, his voice calm but dripping with the usual bitter sarcasm he often exercised when he was tense or angry.

You couldn't help rolling your eyes at that. He was really upset. “Can we just talk?”

He flicked the can open with one hand, taking a long gulp of the liquor that left you with a small frown. “Why? So you get to accuse me of cheating again?”

“Yoongi, please-”

“No, __.” He paused, his gaze felt like a freezing flame to your soul. “You feel the way you feel, yeah I get it. But doubting my loyalty like that? Thinking that I could really go out of my way to cheat like it's nothing? What the fuck are you doing?”

His words, coupled with the way he looked at you, felt like a punch to your guts in that very moment. He was right, you knew that. No matter how insecure and threatened you felt back then, no matter how fucked up the thing he did was, cheating shouldn't have been your first conclusion. Especially when you loved and cherished him so deeply. With a trembling voice, you gathered your words and tried to ignore your stinging eyes as they threatened to spill your hidden emotions out. “I... Our relationship has been so dull lately, I was hoping we could spend some time together and catch up, but then I saw her there and I just..”

“Just what, __?” He cuts your speech. “Do you even trust me?”

“I do, of course I do! But you didn’t even talk to me about it, and when I tried to talk, you were all like ‘Oh, it doesn't matter, you're just being dramatic.’”

“That is not what I said.” He hissed.

“Doesn’t matter!-” A sob interrupted your speech, you ran a hand through your hair in frustration. “Can we just- please-”

Your words were cut short when he started walking towards you. You felt his arms engulfing you in a tight embrace, your face finding its place buried into the crook of his neck, where your warm tears touched his soft, milky skin.

“Shh.. I know.” He whispered into your ear, the strong smell of alcohol, carrying a hint of coffee within, filled your senses. Your arms moved on their own, automatically hugged him back. “You know I would never break your trust, right?”

You nodded your head. Something about the softness of his voice, heavy with vulnerability, made your heart crush into pieces. The way he held you, despite the hurt you knew he felt because of you, had a toll on you.

You pulled away, enough to bring your hands up and cup his face. Your teary eyes staring into his weary ones as you spoke. “That was so stupid of me. I'm sorry.”

“I'm the stupid one here, baby..” He turned his face to nuzzle your palm and press a kiss onto its skin. “I should've thought into it. I was so immersed in work, I didn't see how fucked up the entire situation was. Should've paid more attention.”

He leaned in, pressing a kiss on your forehead and letting his lips linger on your skin there for a few more seconds. “I'm sorry, darling. I'm sorry I made you think that lowly of me.”

The gentleness of his gesture and his words made your tears flow with a mind of their own. There was never a time he made a huge mistake and didn't make you feel like the sky might fall apart at the sight of your tears. It only made the guilt heavier on your heart.

He tightened his hold around you, pulling your body flush against his as he let you cry your hearts content out on his skin. You could feel his hand on the back of your head, a silent encouragement for you to nuzzle his neck again. You obliged.

“I can't believe you made me cry at three a.m like this.” You whined, after a long moment of hushed words of love and quiet sobs, and sniffled.

“I'm sorry, darling..” He cooed at you, wiping the tears off of your cheeks with his gentle fingers. The soft expression he had quickly faded into a slight smirk that appeared on his handsome face. “It wouldn't be the first time I do that, though.”

“Hey!” Your hand landed on his shoulder in a light swat. “We're having a moment here! And I still haven't forgiven you, you know!”

He let out a light chuckle, his smirk deepening when he tilted his head and noticed the faint blush on your face. “Worry not, I'll make it up to you. I'm gonna make you cry in a different way, darling.”

“Go away!” You whined again and shoved him away. His suggestive words made your face feel a lot warmer than necessary, but you tried to sound as stern and unaffected as you possibly could, under his gaze. “I'm going to bed. You better not follow me there, you're sleeping on the couch.”

“Oh, no need for the bed, baby.” He ignored your empty threat and rejection, making a quick job of scooping you up in his arms and heading towards the living room. “We have a foldable couch for a reason.”

“It's an expensive couch, you ass!”

[rollinouttahere-writes]

What if little Lucky got lost and ran into either Buggy or Smoker. Little Lucky is scared because they lost the strawhats.

Little Lucky thought they were following one of the Strawhats but was unknowingly following someone else, which happened to be either Smoker or Buggy.

(Ever had those moments as a little kid when you thought you were following your mother, but you were just following some random adult?)

And Buggy or Smoker is like, "Who's baby/kid is this?" Little Lucky looks like they're about to cry, then Buggy or Smoker panics says something like, "Wait! I'll help you find your parents!".

Either Buggy or Smoker take it upon themselves to find who is responsible for this child (little Lucky). Buggy or Smoker go up to random people saying, "Is this your kid?". By the time they find who is responsible for little Lucky (Strawhats) , they end up bonding with little Lucky and become attached.

Oh I did that once. Ran up to and hugged a woman that looked identical to my mom from behind. I was so mortified that I still remember this clearly like 20 years later.

Anyways

Usually I skip non-canon anime only stuff to avoid confusion, but I have included an anime only character in this one because it was too funny to leave him out.

Not What It Looks Like

Yandere Smoker x Child Reader

2.9k words

Once again, Smoker found himself staring down a pirate, though the pirate in question hadn’t noticed him yet. He didn’t even need to double check with a poster to confirm who this one was. Buggy the Clown was a very distinct looking individual.

Smoker took advantage of the fact that he was distracted to get closer and overhear the conversation he was having. Buggy was crouched down and talking to a small child. A little girl that couldn’t be more than five, if that. You looked distraught and confused.

“W-What do you mean? My mom isn’t here,” you sniffled loudly and scrubbed at your face.

“She’s gotta be, come on just think. She’s about this tall, looks just like you but with some bandages on her head,” Buggy pleaded with you, grasping onto your arms and looking desperate.

You flinched away, and Smoker decided it was his time to intervene. Using his devil fruit, he surrounded the clown with plumes of smoke to trap him. Buggy let out a screech upon finally noticing him and promptly disassembled his body to slip away. Which he was able to do successfully, much to Smoker’s chagrin.

Giving chase should be his number one priority, but his attention was drawn to the teary eyed girl in front of him. There were visible tear tracks going down your face, and your mouth was agape. Made sense, he supposes. This was probably your first time witnessing a devil fruit power. 

Crouching down to be closer to your height, he attempts to comfort you, “You alright kid? Did that pirate hurt you?”

The question snapped you out of your daze. You rubbed at your face and shook your head, “I’m okay. He didn’t hurt me, he was just asking a bunch of weird questions.”

“Like what?” He had to admit that he couldn’t even imagine what a pirate could possibly hope to learn from someone as young as you.

“He kept asking about my mom, but the questions didn’t make any sense. I think he was lying about knowing her,” you mumbled.

“Where is your mom, is she nearby?”

You became shifty at the question and nervously fidgeted your hands. It took a few seconds of anxiously looking around for you to come up with an answer, “Um… She isn’t here. She’s… gone?”

That was a strange way to answer the question, you didn’t seem to know how to answer it. Smoker really didn’t like that, and some alarm bells started going off in his head. He sighed when he saw you attempt to wipe off your face again. Digging around in one of his pockets, he pulled out a handkerchief and used it to properly clean you off. Fortunately, you let him do so without a fight and seemed to have calmed down slightly.

Given how long he’s been living here, he was able to guess that you weren’t local. Probably with some people passing through, but who? Might as well ask, “Who are you here with, kid?”

“My friends,” you answered simply.

He quirked a brow at that, “Are these friends your age?” 

You shook your head, “No, they’re all grown ups.”

Your story was getting weird, so he pressed further, “Are any of them your family?”

“No.” Your face pinched, and again you looked unsure of your answer, “Well, Nami told me to call her “big sis”, so I guess she is?”

So you’re traveling with friends that are all much older than you, your mom is “gone?”, and one of these friends is telling you to call her “big sis”. Something is definitely going on here, and he doesn’t like it at all. Could this get any weirder? He asks you how long you’ve known these friends of yours.

“Since yesterday.”

Oh. It could get weirder. This was starting to sound like a human trafficking case to him, and he couldn’t let that go under his watch. Looks like he would have to put his pirate hunting on hold for the time being.

He held out his hand to you, “I’m Captain Smoker, what’s your name?”

You hesitated for a moment before gently taking his gloved hand in both of yours, “My name’s Lucky. I’m not a captain or anything, though.”

“How about I help you find your friends again?” He needed to meet them for himself, just to make sure you aren’t in the middle of being trafficked. 

You anxiously squeezed his hand and looked nervous, “I dunno… I’m not supposed to go with strangers. Nami is already gonna be mad at me for walking away and getting lost.” Your lip trembled and you looked like you were about to start crying again.

“Do you want ice cream? I’ll buy you some if you let me help you,” he internally cringed at this. He shouldn’t be encouraging you to take bribes from strangers, but he needs you to cooperate with him for your safety.

Instantly, your eyes lit up at the prospect of getting a treat, “Really?!”

Looks like he’s got you on his side now. That was easy. He smiled at you and ruffled your hair before returning to his full height, “Yes, really. Come on, kid. We’ll get ice cream and then find your friends.” And possibly arrest them, but that’s neither here nor there.

You still had a hold on his hand, but now with only one of yours as you walked alongside him, visibly excited about ice cream. At least he was able to defuse the situation and avoid having you cry again.

There was an ice cream shop not far from here, so it didn’t take long to get there. You were bouncing up and down in place and chanting about ice cream while waiting for your turn. Some older ladies seated at a table nearby were cooing at the sight. Smoker overheard one of them calling this a ‘daddy-daughter date’. He shot them a sideways glance, but didn’t deem it worth it to correct them.

As soon as you’d gotten your ice cream, you thanked Smoker and happily started eating it, seemingly forgetting all about being separated from your friends. He supposes he’ll have to remind you about it.

“Where was the last place you saw Nami, kid?”

You perked up, then went into thought for a moment while licking your treat. You hummed, “I think we were at a clothes store? I don’t remember which one, I wasn’t paying attention.”

That really didn’t narrow it down at all. There were tons of clothing stores in Loguetown. “Do you remember where the store was?” He asked, desperate to get any other details.

“I dunno, I think it was close to the docks,” you shrugged. 

Alright, that still didn’t help much, but it looks like that’s all he’s going to be getting out of you in regards to that. Asking about Nami would probably get him farther, “What does Nami look like?”

While you rambled out a description of her, he was scanning the crowd. No one in his line of sight matched what you were telling him, but that wasn’t particularly shocking. This is a big town, he was unlikely to track a single person down that quickly. At least her orange hair would stick out to him if they did cross paths.

“Hey mister, how come there’s a big stain on your pants?” You asked from slightly behind him. You’d relinquished holding hands with him in favor of your ice cream, leading to you falling a little behind.

Stain? Oh, wait. That’s right, a kid ran into him with her own cone earlier, he’d already forgotten about it. He waved off your inquiry, “My pants ate someone’s ice cream, don’t worry about it.”

You took a decisive step away from him, protectively holding your cone, “Your pants aren’t going to eat mine, too, are they?” You were staring at his pants suspiciously, as if they were about to come after you if you didn’t keep an eye on them.

A brief, quiet chuckle escaped him, “They might if you aren’t paying attention and run into me.” This made you take another step back. Okay, maybe that wasn’t the best thing to say if he didn’t want you getting separated from him.

“How about you sit on my shoulders? That way you can look for your friends and my pants won’t be able to reach your ice cream.”

After a moment of weighing your options, you agree and allow him to place you on his shoulders. He’s pretty sure that you’re far too focused on your treat to really help him look for your friends, but now they will be able to see you. Admittedly, this came with the risk of them noticing him too and turning tail to run. While he would prefer to arrest them, at least you would be spared from whatever fate they had in mind for you.

Strolling around the docks would likely be the best course of action. At least one of them could be on the ship, and you ought to be able to point out which one is theirs. Smoker took a less traveled side road to get there. It was the fastest way, plus it would be nice to get a break from how crowded the other streets were. Currently, you two are the only ones here.

“I. Cannot. Believe you.”

Smoker came to an abrupt halt. He knew that voice well, though he could fathom why he would be saying such a thing to him.

“We’ve known each other for years, how have you never told me?” His naturally gruff voice, thick with a southern drawl, plainly revealed how betrayed he felt. It was still unclear as to why.

“What are you going on about, Masterson?” Smoker turned to the side, eyes landing on the local bounty hunter, Daddy the Father. Though Smoker much preferred his actual name to such a ridiculous moniker. Masterson had just exited a candy store. Several shopping bags were on one arm, while the opposing hand was holding his daughter’s. Her blonde curls bounced as she looked back and forth between them, seemingly also confused by the interaction.

“How have you never told me about your daughter?! She looks like she’s about Carol’s age, they could’ve been friends this whole time!” 

Smoker stiffened, this was the worst possible misunderstanding that could have happened today. “No. No, no, no. This isn’t-”

“We’re friends aren’t we? How could you do this to me?” Masterson put a hand on his hip, the shopping bags loudly crinkling against each other, and glowered at Smoker accusingly.

His gloved hand pinched the bridge of his nose, “We are colleagues, Masterson. I haven’t d-”

“Quit bein’ so formal, you can just call me Daddy,” Masterson, dead set on not letting Smoker get a word in, waved his hand dismissively. 

“Absolutely not.” Smoker keeps talking even when Masterson tries to cut him off again, “This is not my daughter, she’s just a lost child that I’m helping. That’s it.”

Masterson huffed, “You don’t need to lie to me, the jig is up. You’re gonna try tellin’ me that you buy ice cream for and carry around every lost kid you find? Is that your story?”

Carol gasped, “Oh! Can we get some ice cream too, daddy?”

The once rough voice completely transformed and took on a much lighter and gentler tone, “Of course, pumpkin! Just as soon as we’re done talking.” His voice went right back to normal when he faced Smoker again, “I mean, really? You’ve kept this from me for- How old are you, sweetie?” The voice changed again. It was bizarre hearing it switch up so rapidly.

“I’m four,” you answered plainly, apparently not caring at all about all the previous talk of Smoker being accused of being your father. 

“You’ve kept this from me for four years?!”

“I just met her today! She isn’t my kid!” He felt you get jostled a bit from his outburst. It probably wouldn’t be great for him if you dropped an ice cream cone on his head because he startled you. Smoker took a deep breath before gently grabbing you off his shoulders and setting you on the ground. You looked up at him briefly, but your attention was stolen away by Masterson.

The man had crouched down to be more on your level, “Is that your daddy?” You hadn’t even answered yet, but he was already smirking, no doubt thinking he was about to win this argument.

“No,” just like that, you wiped the smug look off his face. You hummed in thought while licking at your treat, “I don’t think I have one anymore.” You sounded disconcertingly nonchalant about this revelation. Now you’ve confirmed that neither of your parents are in the picture.

Masterson’s eyes softened and a frown tugged at the corners of his lips. Then, like a light went off, he looked up at Smoker with his eyebrows raised while gesturing towards you.

“What are you- No. I know what you’re getting at, and no,” he was not about to entertain this insane idea for even a second.

“But the poor thing doesn’t have a daddy, have a heart!”

“I can’t just adopt every kid without a family that I come across,” he can’t believe he’s even having this conversation right now, all because Masterson got such an absurd idea into his head. He has far more important matters to attend to, namely figuring out what is going on with your whole family situation and your “friends”.

“Well maybe not all of them, but why not this one? She’s already grown on you at least a little bit if you’re buying her ice cream,” the man was borderline pleading with him at this point. It was unfathomable as to why he was so hung up on this idea, but Smoker frankly could not be bothered to care enough to get to the bottom of it.

“You’re talking about this like she’s a stray dog I found on the street.” Smoker ran a hand down his face and sighed before sparing you a sideways glance. Mercifully, you didn’t appear all that bothered by the odd exchange going on between them. He spoke in a lower tone in hopes of keeping it that way, “Besides, there’s… more going on here.”

A colder, hardened edge flashed in Masterson’s eyes, he definitely got the hint. He patted Carol on the back and nudged her towards you, “Why don’t you get to know your new friend, daddy has to talk business for a minute.”

The little girl didn’t need to be told twice, and quickly scurried over to you and started introducing herself. 

Smoker and Masterson put some distance between themselves and the children. Still close enough to keep an eye on you two, but far enough to have a chance to talk without being overheard.

Masterson pulled out a pack of cigarettes, shaking one out onto his hand, “What’s going on?”

“Trafficking from the looks of it. Her parents are absent, but her answers have been unusual regarding them.” Smoker decided to swap out his cigars for a couple of new ones now that he had his hands free again. “What really bothers me is that she’s here with “friends” that are all adults that she met yesterday.”

Masterson exhaled a puff of smoke, and shook his head, “Sounds about right. Saw a lot of that sort of thing back when I was still a traveling bounty hunter. They tell kids these fantastical stories to get them to come with them willingly so it’s easier to smuggle them. That girl probably thinks she’s going to a new family, or something of the like.” He glanced over to where you and Carol were with pity in his eyes, “You know who you're looking for yet?”

“I’ve got a description for one of them. A redheaded woman with a tattoo on her shoulder named Nami, but I haven’t encountered her yet. I was going to take her to the docks so she could point out their ship to me.”

The bounty hunter nodded, “Good idea, there could be more kids on board. You want help?”

“If you’re not too busy. An extra pair of eyes-”

“Oh! That’s one of my friends!” Your voice cut through the air in an excited squeal.

Both of them went on high alert instantly. Masterson’s hand hovered over his holstered gun and plumes of smoke began curling off of Smoker’s body as they both frantically surveyed their surroundings. No one else was here. Rather than running towards someone, you bounded over to a wall.

A wall with bounty posters plastered all over it. 

Oh, no.

Your empty hand excitedly slapped one poster in particular and you looked over your shoulder at Smoker with a smile on your face, “He’s one of my friends! It’s cool you got a picture of him!”

A bitter, vicious sensation seeped into Smoker’s heart as he glared at the poster. A young boy smiled back at him, not a care in the world to having his picture taken for a bounty poster. Monkey D. Luffy. Wanted dead or alive for a startling sum of 30,000,000 berry. 

Of course pirates were behind this. Everything was starting to come together and make more sense. Not that it changed much. He was still going to be arresting these friends of yours, just now he didn’t need to investigate them for a solid reason to do so. 

“Is he now? That’s good to know,” Smoker ground out while continuing to stare at the mocking grin. “Don’t worry, I’ll find him for you.”

And make sure the bastard rots in prison, but you didn’t need to know about that part.

[jarofstyles]

Guilty

Here is another installment of best friend’s dadrry!!

Part One Part Two

Warnings: age gap, forbidden/kinda taboo relationship (literally fuckin her best friends father lol), slight mention of cheating if you squint

Check out our Patreon!

WC- 1.3k

——

Harry would probably be consumed with guilt if it didn’t feel so good.

Y/N was a temptress. Crimson lips and petal soft skin, a coy smile but cunning eyes. She was something he had tried so hard to stay away from, and still fell right into her soft, sticky webbed trap. The girl had some sort of enchantress powers. His mind had always known that morally, it was wrong. Legally? He was fine. She was a grown adult and he had never looked at her as anything by his daughter’s friend until that fateful day- but if she were to find out, it could cause some serious issues .

That didn’t stop her, though. Y/N was haunting him. Staying at his home, lounging by his pool, brushing past him in his kitchen, sneaking looks at the man as he sat in the living room in his phone when the girls would leave to go out. He had to act like he wasn’t seething with jealousy when his daughter bragged about how many guys she had gotten the attention of the next day as they drank mimosas on their pool deck, giggling with her as she had agreed it had been her goal. The only solace he found, however, was the fact that he knew she wasn’t getting it anywhere else.

As sick and twisted as it was, he awaited the click of his door after his daughter was asleep and the quiet snap of the lock as she padded across his bedroom floor. She would crawl into his bed, hair hanging in silky tendrils around her face as she climbed right on top of his body. Manicured fingers would stroke through his slightly dampened hair, coo about how sexy he looked in his reading glasses, and connect their lips with a kiss.

He knew that it was wrong to take her with his hand wrapped around her mouth, muffling her moans as he pounded into her welcoming cunt from behind. Holding her still as she whimpered against his palm, exhaling sharply through her nose as the tip of his cock would graze her sweetest spot and make her little hole gush around his prick, his mind was focused on making sure he could keep her quiet enough to keep anyone one from waking up- but sometimes the pleasure would be too much.

As much as Harry had fought it, he was obsessed with the girl. Knowing that she sought him out, wanting his expertise, wanting his kissing and caresses and wanted him alone out of every other man that would gladly give her whatever she wanted? It was a stroke to his bruised ego.

Even if she was always pushing limits and testing boundaries.

When his hand would fall out, filth would leave her lips. Some of the dirtiest things, the things he didn’t even know would arouse him that sparked a new sense of sick pleasure mixed with guilt. One time in particular was when she had brought up his ex wife.

“Tighter than her, aren’t I?” Her siren voice purred, a little giggle at the end of it. “Fucking me in the same bed you used to have her in… old and worn out… now you’ve got me.” She had shocked him, pulling his hand around her throat. “Dumb bitch left the best fuck…. She’s so fucking stupid. You deserve this, Harry. You deserve me.” Her pants were echoing in his brain.

It had triggered a moral deliemma, his hand pushing his fingers against the sides of her throat as he growled at her with his punishing thrusts. “Shut the fuck up.” His tone had made her moan. “Don’t talk about her when I’m inside of you.” There was the mix of pain… but also arousal. Because to a degree? She was right. It did feel good in the fucked up way it could. Having a sweet, needy, beautiful younger woman begging for his cock, needing it in the same bed she had left him in? It felt like his own reward. But that didn’t mean she should say it.

“Then why did your cock twitch?” Her weak voice escaped despite his skillful grasp, cutting some of her air. Y/N loved to goad him, to make him feel as though he was out of his goddamn mind, and this was one of them. He didn’t want to admit that his body responded to it, that her words had made him more aroused- so he didn’t. He buried her face into the pillow, continuing his fuck inside of her, pretending he couldn’t hear the little giggle that had been faded into a moan.

Y/N was an enigma. A wet dream come to life, a woman that had him by the balls- literally and metaphorically. He’s never felt more attracted to a woman in his life. Just the scent of her shampoo made his cock twitch, laying in bed the next day to smell the pillow her face had been buried in and had laid on when they’d finished their intense sex. It was always intense with her. Always fiery. Starting off soft or teasing and ending up explosive and intense. Perhaps that should be a warning sign, but Harry found himself too obsessed and entranced with the sweet girl to care.

Outside of their sex, Y/N was a true sweetheart. Besides the whole fucking her friend’s dad thing, she was a genuinely good friend to his daughter and always had been. She kept her on track but did indulge in the nights out and the drinks they’d share. She had helped keep her grades up during school and as she made herself a staple in their home, she had made sure to clean up after herself and be a real contributing factor. The guest room dedicated to her was clean and tidy, never leaving clothes all over the place or dishes in the sink. Perhaps she felt more like a guest despite spending many nights there, but Harry found her to be very peaceful to live alongside.

He had to stop himself often from imagining it being just the two of them. His daughter was looking for an apartment of her own now that she was looking for jobs, which Harry would fund until she got on her feet- but he felt terribly guilty about feeling almost excited at the prospect of having the house to himself so he could indulge in taking Y/N the way he had been craving to do. In their living room, the kitchen, in the pool, against the front door. He was torn completely. Of course he wanted his little girl to stay as long as she wanted, but knowing she was eager to move out and he was eager to have Y/N become a staple in his bed… it was a nice bandaid to the wound.

His heart stuttered in his chest as he walked into the kitchen, seeing the pair sitting in front of the island and picking at some fruit that had been cut up. Y/N sent him a large glittering smile, pushing a bowl of cut kiwi and strawberry over to him.

“Kiwi is your favorite, right?” She asked, a hopeful glint in her eye that made him want to get on his knees right there. She had cut up kiwi just for him, definitely bought it considering he knew they didn’t have any and his daughter didn’t like it, and made him a snack.

“Yeah- yeah, it is.” He cleared his throat, surprise obvious on his face. “Thank you. I appreciate that- was comin’ in to get a snack.” His eyes lingered on her face and the little stain on her lips from the strawberries and cherries she had been eating. He wanted to taste her fruit tinged mouth and make her lips swollen and bruised.

“You’re too nice, Y/N. He’s a grown man.” His daughter snorted, not noticing the way their eyes met.

“Yeah, but even grown men deserve to be taken care of sometimes. Especially when they’re as sweet to me as your dad.”

[maddie-dog-story-blog]

Sarah's Playground - 10

PREVIOUS CHAPTER

I was stunned. I was just coming to grips with being reduced to a 10-year-old. I did NOT want to be reduced further. However, once again, I was in a horrible situation.

Lidia was now my designated babysitter. If she complained to my mom about anything I did, I could easily find myself in a worse situation.

That being said, I knew if I gave her enough evidence, like a used diaper, mom would reduce me anyway. I had heard too many stories about that happening. So, with the friendliest, cheeriest tone I could muster, I responded to Lidia's proclamation.

"Oh, Miss Lidia, house sounds like such a fun game, but I really don't feel like playing that right now, could we do something else? Like a tea party?"

By presenting another childish option, I hoped that Lidia would be satisfied and drop the issue. Unfortunately, she was not that easily knocked off her path.

"Oh, Sarah, that DOES sound fun, but your Mommy didn't leave you a tea party set! I really think house is the best game we can play. Plus, won't it be so fun just to act like a baby for the weekend?" Lidia said, steamrolling my suggestion. Before I could interject, she continued, "Now, little missy, why don't you lay down, so I can get you into your costume!"

I watched in horror as Sarah opened the huge, adult-sized baby diaper, spread it out on the bed, and patted it expectantly. Panic started to fill every part of my being. I was NOT going to put on that diaper. Being demoted to a 10-year-old was demeaning enough, but, being forced to act like a pants-filling, drooling toddler was fulfilling my worst nightmares. Still wearing nothing under the towel Lidia has draped over me earlier, I took a step back from the bed and the horrible, thirsty undergarment lying on it.

"No, I won't…" I choked out.

A flash of rage crossed Lidia's eyes. I shuddered as the larger, older woman stepped towards me.

"What did you just say, Little Sarah? I am sure I didn't just hear you tell your babysitter 'No,'" Lidia growled out menacingly.

She continued to walk towards me, looming over me with her larger frame. I shrank back from her as she approached.

"I… I said, 'No,' Miss Lidia. I'm still 10. That's still a big girl. I can choose not to play house or wear a… a… diaper," I said with what little confidence was left to me.

At my continued words of defiance, Lidia crossed the room even quicker and ripped the towel I was clutching around me away, leaving me completely naked. My small, but clearly fully formed adult body left on clear display. I suddenly felt more vulnerable than I had in years.

Lidia grabbed me by the wrist and started dragging me to the bed. I tried to pull away, but I just was not physically strong enough to resist. Despite us both being adults, my small, frame and lack of any athletic training left me with no defense to Lidia's much stronger athletic body.

"You wet the bed like a child," Lidia lectured as she dragged me across the room. "You were demoted to 10 years old by your Mommy because of it," she continued as I twisted my wrist and tried to pull away. "You don't DESERVE to get to make your own choices anymore!"

I screamed and tried to pull harder. We were too close to the bed and the dreaded diaper for my comfort.

"I am your babysitter. I make the decisions for you now!" Lidia said as, with a forceful tug, she sat on the bed and expertly threw me over her lap, ass pointed straight up in the air.

Fearing what was coming, I struggled to try and get free. I flailed my legs and tried to roll off her lap and away. In response, Lidia used one of her legs to pin my ankles down, she then twisted one arm into an arm bar, pinning me to her lap, and leaving one of her hands free. I growled like the trapped animal I was as she continued.

"Sarah, you are acting like an entitled little brat. You will do what I say, or you WILL suffer the consequences!" Lidia said, emphasizing her point by slapping my exposed butt cheeks with her free hand. "And," she continued, leaning over to whisper the next statement into my ear, "unlike when I watched you when you were a real 10-year-old, I am allowed to punish you HOWEVER I deem appropriate given you are just a pathetic…" She slapped my ass again, harder. "Little…" Tears formed in my eyes at the third smack. "Demotee!" The fourth impact of hand to ass put me over the edge, I started to cry.

I bawled, releasing all of the fear, shame, embarrassment, rage, and pain of the situation through my tears. Lidia rained down blows on my vulnerable rear end for what felt like hours, but was actually just a few minutes. She only stopped when I stopped fighting, going slack and accepting my situation. As she ended her assault, she asked me a question.

"Are you going to be a good girl now, Little Sarah?"

I sniffled, trying to regain some composure as a snot and tears rolled down my face to the floor.

"Yes, Miss Lidia," I gave in.

"And are you going to do exactly what I say, when I say?" Lidia continued.

"Yes, Miss Lidia," I responded.

"Are you going to play house with me like a good girl?" Lidia finally asked.

"Yes, Miss Lidia," I acquiesced.

"Good, now, go stand with your hands on you head and nose in the corner until I let you out," Lidia said, finally letting me up off of her lap.

Feeling broken and beaten, literally, I did as asked. I walked to the corner, put my hands on my head, and touched my nose to the wall.

Staring at the paint of my bedroom wall, I was left nothing but the dark thoughts about what would come next for me in this horrible situation.

NEXT CHAPTER

[justmeinatree]

01 - Astoria : Ripplin On By

Summary : you find yourself trapped on a pirate ship, desperate to be saved. or is the pirate that needs saving …

feels far from home close to the veil, goodbye mother’s fairytale

TW : murder, talks of sexual assault

Word Count : 5k

A/N : we can all thank @niallthebadboi for reminding me of the niall/james corden halloween music video 🤐

“oi, mate. mate, come here,” he whispers, his index finger in a come hither motion.

niall’s ears perk up, the quietness of the lower deck echoing even the faintest of sounds. he looks behind him, spotting one of the crew members, furrowing his eyebrows, “what is it ? m’a little busy.”

with his boots sludging through the thick waters on the bottom deck of the boat, the smell of the salt water mixed in with mould due to the slowly rotting wood, niall was filtering through boxes upon boxes. he knows he can find what he’s looking for, if he’s just given enough uninterrupted time. christ, there’s a lot of shit down here.

“did you hear ? there’s supposedly a lass on board.”

and well that, makes niall laugh, shaking his head, “don’t tell me you’ve fallen for that rumour. no way there’s a lady on this ship. not a single lass, in her right mind, would board onto a boat with a bunch of pirates. bloody death wish if she does,” he adds, muttering to himself.

“nah, s’not a rumour lad. can’t you feel it ?” he hums, smirking, dirty brown teeth poking through his chapped lips. “we can all tell. the energy’s different. oh what i would do to get my hands on a sweet young lady.”

“bloody disgusting you,” niall laughs, shaking his head. although he can’t help but fantasize about a woman from time to time. spending the majority of his adult life on a ship full of men, and maybe, just maybe, he can feel some sort of shift in the air. but that could simply be all the idiots up on deck getting themselves worked up for nothing. it’s not like it’s the first time niall hears about rumours like this one.

“can’t tell if i’d rather have a little taste, or pray for her wellbeing when she’s found,” he hums, shaking the thoughts out of his head, making his way back up, calling down to niall, “whoever finds her first gets first dibs.”

niall huffs, turning around and getting back to his task at hand. there was obviously nothing to get worked up about. because there was obviously no girl on the ship. they haven’t ported in almost a week now, no way a lady would have made it this long. pirate ships aren’t exactly anything close to nice accommodations.

but for now, he searches through crate upon crate, why they had so much crap stuffed away down here, he’ll never know. no one ever comes down here anyway, it’s too sludgy and too rotten. it’s not until he rounds a corner that he hears the small squeak. he’s no stranger to rats and mice, but this, well this wasn’t quite it.

peering over, he spots someone. 

you were terrified. fear stricken over your features, back pressed against a wall ? some boxes ? you weren’t sure. it felt like your breath had caught into your throat, fingertips going slightly numb, unable to move an inch, as you stare back at him, panic settling into every bone in your body.

“hey,” niall hums, confusion etched on his face, because fuck, there really was a girl on this ship. 

you coward back at the sound of his voice, small whimper leaving your chest, barely heard over the creaking of the old wood. your eyes squeezed shut, ready for the worst. it was hard to see his face, only small cracks of daylight filtering through the old wood to illuminate the dampened space. and with his hat perched upon his head, the specks of clarity weren’t quite reaching his face.

“no, no, s’alright,” niall murmurs, hand darting out for you, quickly retreating it when he notices you flinch away.

“please dont hurt me,” you hiccup, tears filling your eyes.

“m’not gonna hurt you, it’s okay,” he coos, trying to muster up as much calm as he can. although he can’t say he’s felt much of anything remotely close to calm since joining this crew.

“no,” you hiccup again, bottom lip starting to tremble, pressing yourself impossibly further back. “i- i heard yo-you talking,” you stutter. “i know you’re gonna-a hurt me.”

“no, no,” niall coos, shaking his head. “that’s not-. you heard the othe-.” he sighs, biting his lip and starting over. “m’niall, what’s your name, love ?”

“dont call me that,” you huff, the tiniest bit of bite to your voice.

that pulls a smile from niall, a slight breathy chuckle, “alright, m’sorry. how about you tell me your name so i know what to call you.”

“y/n,” you murmur around a few deep breaths, trying to regulate your heart as your brain determines if there’s any imminent threat or not.

“y/n,” he hums, tasting it out on his tongue. “what are you doing on this ship ? s’not safe for you.”

“i messed up,” you peep quietly, fresh tears gathering in your eyes. “everyone was gone, and i just picked a boat. didn’t think there were pirates ported at the docks.”

niall bites back a laugh, not wanting to upset you, but still, what were the odds really. he doesn’t think he’s ever met someone with such bad luck. “we have to eat too,” he chuckles, “gotta reach port sometimes. have ya seriously been here all week ?”

you nod softly, sighing, “when they started coming back onto the ship, i ran down. just kept running. v’been hiding out here. you’re the first one to come down this far below deck.”

“you’ve been down here all week ?” he asks, shocked, eyes grown wide. “fuck, you can’t stay down here that long, you’ll get sick. there’s too much mould for you to breathe in.”

“i’ll take my chances,” you murmur, biting your lip, looking up at him with desperation, “s’better than going up there with the crew.”

and well, niall cannot disagree there. thinks he’d rather live down here with the rot and the sludge if the alternative was to head up to the crew and have every shred of his being ripped apart. so he nods, looking sadly at you, because you’re right, there’s no denying it. “must be hungry then. how about i get you some food ? try to track down some fresh water,” he suggests. 

at that, you perk up, eyes shining with some level of hope for the first time, in a week, apparently. you nod, looking hopeful at niall, asking curiously, “when’s the next time we dock ?”

“not for at least another week, m’afraid,” he sighs, adding a bit more enthusiastically, “don’t think about that right now, just sit tight, i’ll be right back.”

and with that niall was off, bounding up the steps, loud wooden creaks echoing under each of his boots. he makes a bit of small talk with a few other crew mates as he passes them, fishing through crates and flour sacks full of beans, biscuits, and salted dried meats, grabbing a good handful of each, tucking them into his satchel. 

unfortunately, he doesn’t remember a single day as a pirate where he’s actually had access to water. it’s always been beers and ales and rums. at least that’s what’s made readily available. 

if he was going to find water, he’s going to have to sneak around, and sneaking around takes time. time he doesn’t think he has. for some reason, he fears for your safety. you were so innocent, so fragile, so full of fear when he found you gazing back at him. he can’t even begin to imagine what the others would do if they found you. doesn’t think he’ll be able to live with himself if he has to watch that innocence get wiped off your pretty porcelain face. he may be a pirate, but his mam raised a good man.

and although the crew typically never hits the lowest deck, one of them is bound to discover you. especially with the flying rumour of a young lass on board.

so he decides, for now, that some ale is the best he can do in terms of beverage, figuring he’ll have more time to sneak around once all the lads are passed out drunk for the night.

when he returns to the lowest deck, he finds you sitting on one of the large crates, feet tucked up to give your poor skin a break from the constant saturation. he feels his heart grow heavy. a now foreign feeling to him, as he’s learned to grow a thick callous around his emotions. if he spends too much time contemplating his life decisions over the last decade, he’ll throw himself overboard. there are countless moments for which he’s significantly less than proud of. murder being a number of them. he’s just had to do what he’s had to do.

but with you, being dealt a really bad hand, stuck on a pirate ship, condemned to a level that the pirates themselves don’t really come to, he feels real sadness, and real fear, and real protectiveness. he wants to help you. he’s not sure why, he’s never felt the need to help anyone. but seeing that desperation in your eyes, and the sheer willpower you’ve held onto for this long, he empathizes with you in ways he’s not even sure he fully understands.

niall trudges over to you, placing his satchel down on the crate next to you, opening it up to show you its contents. “sorry it’s nothing better. s’really all that survives the long trips.”

“don’t worry about it, please. it’s food,” you smile, reaching in and taking a handful of beans. 

“i couldn’t find any water,” he sighs, “that one’s going to be a bit harder to come by. i’ll go lurking later tonight, when they’re all passed out,” he nods towards the upper deck, where the crew are currently working. “for now though, i hope ale’s okay ? at least it’ll fix the thirst for a bit, yeah ?” he hums hopefully.

your smile only grows wider, swallowing down a bite of the biscuit you had reached for, “niall, don’t make a fuss,” you murmur softly. “you’ve gotten me a meal, and you’ve been nothing but kind to me. i really appreciate all of it,” you hum, taking a sip and another bite, finding yourself hungrier than you thought. the slowly waning adrenaline causing your body to need a  refuel.

“it’s no problem,” niall smiles, “really. just want you to stay safe, and to make it off this ship unharmed.”

you feel heat rise to your cheeks, your eyes trained down on the food he’s provided. you could not have a crush on a pirate. you. could. not. you had to get off this ship and never, ever, look back. fuck.

you take a deep breath, looking over at him, “you seem too nice to be a pirate.”

niall’s mouth quirks up in a smirky smile, breathy chuckle rumbling from his chest, he shakes his head, “there’s a lot of nice lads here. but pirate mentality tends to take over and the next thing you know, you’re doing something you’d never ever thought of doing.”

your eyes lock with his, reading him for a moment, a silent moment, as you both exchange a sad, knowing gaze, “would it have been different if you weren’t alone when you found me ?”

at that, niall sighs, shoulders deflating. he reaches up on his head, gripping his hat and taking it off, resting it on the crate, behind you. it’s the first time you see him without it, expecting to finally get a glace at his hair, you’re only slightly disappointed to see a tattered, muted green bandana wrapped around his head. although you do note peaks of brown tousles poking through behind his ears and by his neck. small hoops pierced through his lobes.

without his hat, more light hits his eyes, which you note are a deep blue. his skin was tanned, darkened from long days in the blistering sun. he’s gorgeous. you cannot. cannot. have a crush on a pirate.

“i’d like to believe that i would have stood up for you,” niall murmurs. “like to believe that when i saw that look in your eyes, i’d be getting them away from you. can’t even begin to imagine the alternative, to be honest, darling.”

you let the pet name slide, too caught up with the fact that he keeps saying he’d like to believe. it’s not quite as reassuring as you’d hoped. you aren’t completely sure how much you can trust him yet. after all, a bit of food is a nice peace offering, but he hasn’t proven himself just yet.

it’s a few hours after that, before you see niall again. he does need to spend some time, enough time, with the crew, working. he can’t let anyone notice that he’s gone too long. or at least, where he’s going. if any of the lads find out that he’s spending time down there, they’ll suspect something. he needs to do this very delicately. needs to be smart about this. 

as he returns, he smiles wide at you, waving a pair of boots around. “smallest ones i could find, keep your feet dry.”

your eyebrows furrow squinting your eyes, the darkness of early evening settling, less and less daylight filtering through the small cracks in the wood.

“s’hard to see innit ?” niall hums, patting his pants, fingers finding some matches in one of the pockets, striking one against a crate to light it, the dim flame just enough to illuminate his face and the pair of boots he’s holding up.

“you got me some boots ?” you look up at him, a burst of warmth spreading through your chest, biting your lip softly as you reach for them, slipping them on. “these are perfect,” you hum, clicking your feet together.

niall searches the walls and ceiling, finding a small gas lamp, unhooking it from its perch, and lighting it. a small corner of space sees proper lighting for the first time in a long time. taking a look around, he thinks he prefers it when it’s dark.

but upon looking over at your feet, he sees you were exaggerating quite a bit. the boots were far from perfect, much too big on you. “you seem to be handling all of this really well for someone as prim and proper as you are.”

you laugh, a true laugh, your first one in god knows how long, shaking your head. “didn’t grow up like this,” you explain, hands waving up and down to display your expensive dress. “one of the richest men in town, for some reason, had his sights set on me.”

“make that sound like a bad thing,” niall hums, hoisting himself up on the crate across from you, setting his hat down again.

“i hate him,” you murmur vehemently. and again, you both lock eyes in a silent moment, the flame flickering a dim glow over both of your features, intensifying the connection. 

niall snaps out of it first, “wanted to bring you the boots, and check in on ya. it’s gotten pretty dark out, the crew’ll be out cold in a bit. i’ll try to find you some water. i’ll be back. keep that light, makes it a little less glum.”

and again, he’s off, just as quickly as he came. you were forever grateful for the bits of company. and the little things he’d bring you every time he dropped on by. in the meantime though, you were lonely. tucked away in the depths of despair, longing and awaiting for your gorgeous pirate’s return.

christ, stop. you did not have a crush. you did not. however, you could admit to yourself that having a place of escape, in your mind that is, helped pass the time a little bit. a place where you and niall were on a grand adventure at sea, wind billowing in your hair, fresh salty air, nothing but beautiful sunsets on the horizon.

how you longed for a breath of fresh air. to feel the wind on your skin. it was getting increasingly hard to be held up like you were. you had no idea that rot and severe lack of sunlight could affect someone so quickly.

you were growing increasingly desperate. and thinking back, niall had mentioned countless times that the crew pass out cold at night. maybe you could sneak around too ? just enough to make it a bit higher up. 

this was foolish, you kept telling yourself as you take slow steps towards the stairs, and yet, you couldn’t stop yourself. it’s like if your body could feel its impending death if it stayed put. your sheer will to have some clean air seemingly taking over the fear for a split moment. 

you were two floors up before you started noticing signs of life. sticking to the empty staircase, peering over quietly to notice breathing lumps of men, tucked into hammocks slung around randomly. 

continuing on your way, you stop a few steps from the very top, sitting on it, not risking being seen on the wide open deck. you breathe in deeply, crisp nighttime air filling your lungs. tilting your head back, eyes blinking up, you notice the vast array of stars. smiling to yourself, you enjoy a moment of calm. 

that is, until you hear some sounds from below you. what seems to be a conversation. and by the rumbling, tumbling steps, and the slurring, cackling voices, you’d best believe they were drunk. with the sounds getting louder, they were heading up to the top deck.

panic rising in your chest, your eyes dart from side to side, figuring there was nowhere to go but up. you climb the rest of the stairs, finding the large expanse of the ship to be empty. rushing, you look around to find a hiding spot, just about to take your first step towards a barrel, when a bone chilling sentence hits your brain. 

“well, well, well. look at what we have here.”

“hmm, pretty young lady. looks like we get to have some fun tonight.”

you whimper, frozen in fear, hearing the loud chuckle from behind you, “i get her first !” one of them shouts, surging forward and gripping your shoulder. he walks you forward towards the very barrel you were planning to dash for, just moments ago, pressing on your upper back, between your shoulder blades, bending you over.

you can feel him lean over you, pressed up against you, murmuring against your ear, “such a little treat aren’t you ?”

“what the-“ you hear from further behind you, the man no longer pressed against you, as he looks behind himself. 

“fuck- what are you-“ just as you look behind yourself, curiously panicked, worried that you may have an even worse imminent future ahead. 

instead you’re met with the sight of your attacker, pulled back into niall’s chest, held down by his mouth to muffle any sounds, watching niall glide a blade through your attacker’s throat. 

you feel as if your heart was about to beat out of your throat, eyes bulging wide, trying to take in the scene in front of you. two men, in a heap on the floor, throats gushing blood. you were gasping for breath, slowly backing away, until your back hit the barrel.

“what in god’s name are you doing ?” niall snaps, looking around to make sure no one’s seen anything. “why would you do something so fucking stupid ?”

he was furious. and you could tell. instantly regretting your decision to try and reach some upper floors. “i-“ you sigh, looking down, unable to look him in the eye. you felt like a small child, being scolded. and truthfully, you deserved it. what you did was stupid. and if niall hadn’t found you right then and there, you’re not sure what would be happening right now. 

your gaze tentatively flicks up towards his, shame plastered on your features, as you do something you never imagined doing. you lunge forward, wrapping your arms around niall, the force of it all making him take a few steps back.

he was shocked. he hadn’t been privy to a hug in over a decade. his eyes blink rapidly a few times, before slowly wrapping his arms around your waist, holding you to him, hearing a faint, “thank you for saving me,” puff out from your lips, warm breath hitting his neck. 

niall’s eyes flutter closed, his head resting against yours, taking in a breath. the fresh cleanliness of the soap you used in your hair was still clinging on, under the scent of the sea, a welcomed change his nostrils revelled in. 

he found himself relaxing into your arms, the protective anger he was feeling over you fading, murmuring, “please tell me what the fuck you were doing.”

you slowly pull away from the hug, sighing, “i was desperate for some fresh air. you kept talking about the crew passing out at night, figured it’d be my best shot,” you shrug.

“christ, darling, let me in on your plans next time yeah ? let me keep you safe. d’ya have any idea how bad that could have been if i wasn’t here ?” he shakes his head. “fuck, lets not think about that. need to take care of my mess. then m’gonna find you a change of clothes. can’t have ya sneaking around in that dress. s’too obvious.” 

he turns around, hoisting the bodies one at a time, rolling them over the edge of the ship, to crash into the frigid waters below.

“niall, you-“ you take a deep breath, your shoulders slugging, “you killed two people. for me. i- fuck, i can’t believe i-“

“shh,” he hums, shaking his head, pressing his index finger against your lips when he notices you about to speak again. “don’t have ta say it. m’honestly so fucking glad i was here.”

your breath catches as his finger makes contact with your mouth, a tingle of warmth spreading through your entire body, leaving your fingers and toes slightly numb. for a moment you find yourself wanting nothing more than to kiss him. with the sweat on his brow and the dirt on his skin, and fuck even the blood on his hands, you were so attracted to him. you cannot have a crush on a bloody pirate.

he slowly pulls his finger away, eyes locked on yours, feeling the erratic beating in his chest, because my god, he’s never felt such soft lips. doesn’t remember wanting to kiss anyone so bad in so long. not that there’s been even remotely close to a kissing prospect. “c’mon, that’s gotta be enough fresh air for today. can’t risk it any longer. lets get you back down there, darling. i’ll go sleuthing for some clothes.”

“niall,” you rush out, gripping into his arm just as he was trying to walk away, “thank you. for everything.”

a small smile tugs at his lips, blush rising to his cheeks, turning away again and setting off with you, making sure the coast is clear every step of the way, until you’re back to the safety of the bottom deck.

it had been days since your little adventure to the outside. and as much as you were craving a trip back up, you were slightly petrified. 

niall had brought you some clothes, and even though you could fairly blend in with the crew, you weren’t quite ready to test it for real. 

in the meantime, niall’s been your source of friendship, coming to check on you regularly, whenever he could sneak away, bringing you food and drinks. he even tracked down some water for you a couple of times. 

tonight, however, you couldn’t hold out anymore. so when niall comes by for his late evening visit, you hop down from the crate you’d made yourself comfortable on, bounding over to him, “can we go up tonight ?”

he looks over you, eyes wide, “you really want to try that again ?” he asks quietly, out of fear for you. fear of what could happen to you, to him for hiding you. 

but with the large puppy eyes you were feeding him and the severe level of empathy he has for you, he ends up giving in pretty quickly, nodding his approval, “yeah, alright. suppose it’s something you need. please stay close. and do whatever i say.”

“yes sir,” you smirk, saluting him. as soon as your hand left your forehead, you felt like a complete fool. embarrassing yourself in front of the man whom you’ve grown more and more affection towards.

he giggles though, a real giggle, shaking his head at you, “m’a pirate, not in the fuckin navy, darling.”

you laugh along with him, ever grateful for him. you’re unsure of how you’ll ever be able to thank him for all that he’s done for you. including murder for fuck sake. you have to come up with something before leaving the ship.

you stay quiet, following him up the stairs, niall checking each floor as he goes, confirming that everyone is rightfully asleep. once he makes it to the top deck, he takes one look around, finding the entirety of the space, completely abandoned. niall’s hand reaches out for yours, helping you up the last few steps.

taking a deep breath, your eyes close momentarily, enjoying the feeling of whipping wind against your skin, tiny droplets of sea water spraying you from time to time. it was so refreshing, so incredibly needed after the time down below.

walking over to the edge, hands gripped into the side of the ship, looking at the vast expanse of pure, pitch, darkness. there was nothing but stars as far as the eye could see. 

niall coming over to stand next to you, he hums softly, “what’s got you so focused ? s’nothing but black out there.”

“kinda nice innit ?” you ask quietly, “the stars, the open sea, how tiny we really are in the grand scheme of things.”

“you think that’s nice ?” he asks, slightly confused. “isn’t that a bit scary ? what’s the point of it all ? we wont really make a difference anyway.”

at that, you hum, your head resting against niall’s shoulder, his arm instinctively wrapping itself around your shoulders. you never thought you’d be over the moon to be cuddled up with a pirate, but he actually made you feel comfortable, safe, a feeling that was fairly foreign for you at this point. and you were revelling in it.

“you think you won’t make a difference ?” you ask softly, turning yourself a bit more into him, “you’ve already made a huge one,” you explain. “you’ve saved me. saved my life.”

“but-“ niall furrows his eyebrows, “that’s just how my mam raised me. to be kind. s’not really making a difference in the world.”

you shake your head, humming a protest, “one person can’t change the entire world, that would be a bit of a pompous thought,” you chuckle, adding quietly, “but you’ve made a difference in my world.”

niall feels his heart burst, prickling heat shooting from his chest throughout his entire body. he buries his face in your hair, pulling you closer to him, “think you’ve made an even bigger difference in mine.”

moments before he was about to turn your face towards his, he hears it, a deep chuckle coming from behind, “looks like nialler found a treasure. gonna share with your brothers ?”

he feels you go stiff as a board next to him, feels the moment the air leaves your body, feels the panic encompassing every fibre of your being. he looks down at you, trying to convey any form of safety in his gaze, mouthing to you, “run,” before pushing you off towards the stairs. 

instantly, the other man is taking off after you, bounding down the stairs two at a time, niall quickly in toe. 

you just make it back to your dark and dingy secluded hideout, when a large, rough hand presses you into one of the crates in front of you, making your forehead smack down hard on the wood. 

you whimper, the man’s hands closing on your hips, squeezing roughly, painfully. and just like the last time, a moment later, he’s lifted off of you, niall’s blade slicing through his neck.

niall’s catching his breath, trying to calm his nerves, as he looks down at the scene, taking the moment in for the first time, because fuck, this is not good.

he looks up at you, noting the gash on your forehead, “christ, darling, you alright ?” he asks, fingertip darting out to gently touch the wound.

you flinch back, bottom lip trembling, as you feel yourself giving out, niall quick to catch you before you fall into the sludge water, leaning heavily on him, face tucked into his neck, “i can’t do this anymore,” you cry softly. “i can’t, i can’t. i need air, i need sun, fuck,” you tremble. “m’always so scared. i just can’t anymore niall.”

he holds you tightly, heart shattering for you. you hadn’t asked for this. you were a good person. you didn’t deserve any of this. mind reeling after the events of just moments ago, niall comes up with a plan, “we’re getting off this ship.”

“what ?” you ask exhaustedly, peering up at him, every ounce of your being, drained.

“you can’t stay here anymore. s’too dangerous. and you need air. we’ll take one of the lifeboats,” he explains, before nodding towards the body, “s’the first mate. someone’s going to notice he’s missing. and m’not about to lug him all the way up to throw him overboard, someone’ll see.”

“niall, i can’t make you do that,” you sigh. “can’t make you leave the safety of the ship for me.”

he cups your neck in his large hand, his thumb stroking your jaw, eyes peering into your own, conviction in his tone, “can’t go alone, darling. i told you i’d keep you safe. couldn’t live with myself if you were out there all alone. we’re leaving. tonight.”

Part 2

……

Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist

tags : @cc-horan

[dollwrites]

in celebration of my own identity as a bisexual woman during this month, i’ve decided to use my patreon to post works that feature girl characters that i really, really wanna give smoochies. 👉🏻👈🏻 these works are available through either tier ( the hound / the falcon ) and are mostly just a lighthearted way to express and celebrate my own identity through kink roulette which is one of my favorite games to play while i’m writing.

like always, my writing is only for adults ( MINORS DNI ) and is sexually explicit.

below are the sneak peeks, and here is the link to my patreon so you can read the full drabbles and more!!

01. ᴀɴɢᴇʟ ᴛʀᴀɪɴɪɴɢ ! ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ᴘᴀɴᴛʏ ᴀɴᴀʀᴄʜʏ

the human girl was erupting like a geyser, unlike anything you’d ever seen before. screaming, face red, legs trembling, with a thin but high-arcing stream spurting out from her body. your eyes widened further, your free hand hovering above your mouth that was agape. “I—I—!” the pleasure building in your lower half made it difficult to think, to form words, and the lewd depiction on the screen only seemed to amplify this pleasure. the sound of the human woman getting off sunk deep down into your core and gripped you there. “I—I don’t think I can do that!”

Panty smirks, pumping her fingers faster. “Only one way to find out, newbie! Let’s see if you can squirt!”

02. ᴛʜʏ ᴋɪɴɢᴅᴏᴍ ᴄᴏᴍᴇ ! ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ sʟᴀɴ

your nails dig into her flesh, but you’re not strong enough to break it or make her bleed; you do it moreso as a way to relieve an unfamiliar pressure. a growing sensation as her seemingly endless tongue pumps inch after inch of wriggling, bump heat into your sex. your eyes, though pricked with tears, flutter open and your head droops forward. you’re panting, staring down the length of your body— there’s an oscillating bulge in your belly, and it moves in tandem with your pleasure, so you know it must be her tongue; too big to fit inside you without protruding. weak and wary, you find her gaze, as silvery as the moonlight that bathes the two of you, and you’re entranced by the stare immediately, trapped within it. a smile etches her lips upward, and you feel yourself sink lower towards the opening of her couplet, as if the darkness of her mouth would envelop you if her smile grew any wider. “Very good, little pet. It’s been ages since I’ve taken part in my followers’ festivities. I’d forgotten how much I enjoyed the taste of virgin cunt.” both of her Herculean hands have found their way to her body: one on her right breast, groping the mound and teasing her nipple, whilst her left slides between her thighs, strumming her own core as she violates you. Slan’s telepathic voice is an eerie and yet incredibly seductive coo that breaks down the protective barriers in your psyche and renders you little more than putty for her to play with.

[ncfan-1]

I keep telling myself that Mae is still a functioning adult, just one with severe amnesia, like Revan in KOTOR. She’s not really been regressed back to the age of eight and is now a little girl trapped inside an adult woman’s body! That can’t possibly be what Qimir actually did to her, haha, that can’t be what happened to her….

Look. The idea that Mae was fully regressed back to the age of eight goes beyond gut-wrenching; it’s fucking cruel. It’s not just hacking her mind to pieces; it’s subjecting her to long-term indignity and humiliation. If she has actually been regressed back to her eight-year-old self, every last bit of personal growth and personality development for the last two-thirds of her life has been stripped away. Beyond that, Mae can’t take care of herself as she would have been able to before. She can’t cook for herself. She can’t effectively clean her living space. She can’t pilot a ship. She can’t read, write, or do math on an adult level. Mae has been reduced to crippling dependency on the Jedi, who besides Vernestra likely actively dislike and distrust her—not just to be taken care of in the short-term, but to be taught how to be an adult again. She now relies on her captors for literally everything, the same institution that murdered her entire family. And it’s not just the things I talked about above that Mae would have to relearn how to do, is it.

I like to think that it was not the authorial intent for Mae to be regressed to the age of eight because I feel like the writers understand that would cast Osha and Qimir both in a dire light, Qimir for doing it to her and Osha for agreeing to it, once the audience saw the uglier details of what Mae being a little girl trapped in an adult’s body entailed. Because I feel like Osha and Qimir would have become much more difficult characters to sympathize with in Season 2 if we had a scene of them living freely, able to do what they want without having to worry about the Jedi, only for us to cut back to Mae in captivity, twenty-four-year-old Mae, and one of her captors is having to teach her how to use a fucking tampon because Qimir took that away from her in the memory wipe, too.

Like, it paints Qimir as so shockingly vindictive that it would put a good chunk of the audience off of him. As for Osha, that same chunk would look at her and ask, “This is the price you were willing to pay for your freedom? You were willing to subject your sister to this so long as you got to be free?”

So yeah, my hopes are settled on “functional adult with severe amnesia.” Because as gut-wrenching as even that is, it’s at least free of the added layer of indignity and humiliation Mae has been set up for if she really is now a little girl trapped in a woman’s body.

[twinkalicious]

common misconception i see about claudia is that she's a grown woman trapped inside a child's body. while this isn't technically incorrect, it leaves out a major aspect of her character that isn't often addressed and serves to make her all the more tragic. see claudia is less a woman who's been forced into a child's body and more a child who is and will always be a child no matter how long she lives. don't misunderstand, she's blindingly intelligent, she certainly has the intellect of a grown adult, but she does not and never will possess the wisdom and maturity of an actual adult. all of the vampires in the series, claudia included, essentially exist in a state of limbo as though frozen in time, their organs petrified and unable to grown or age. in claudia's case specifically her brain ceased to finish developing at 14. her frontal lobe will never come in, because its development got cut off while she was still a child. it's why she often makes choices that aren't always rational, or why she might be blind to the intentions of others, namely the parisian coven. its part of why she can't see that she's being toyed with, and why she has such a desire for community, a desire to fit in and be seen as mature. that's the thing that makes her so tragic to me, she wants nothing more than to be seen as an adult, even though, in the eyes of both mortals and her immortal peers, she is not and never will be one. if anything, her attempts to do so will always and forever be seen as childish, like a little girl trying on her mother's oversized high heels for the first time.

[taggedmemes]

SENTENCE MEME THE GOLDEN GIRLS / SEASON 01 EPISODES 05 + 06

just where do you think you're going?

i'm an old white woman, i'm not supposed to have color.

i want you to see how good i look in my new dress.

i've lived in this body since i was born.

if something goes wrong, i'm the first one to hear about it.

i have to wash my hair every day for the rest of my life.

thank you for being a kind and generous god.

the only thing i haven't tried on is the bedspread.

what kind of woman do you think i am?

i am not accustomed to being manhandled.

you are no gentleman.

there is something about that man i don't trust.

she'll be heartbroken when you tell her.

the last time a friend's sweetheart made a pass at me, i lost my friend.

what kind of friend would i be to hurt her?

what kind of friend would you be if you let him ruin her life?

he put his big, masculine arms around my tiny little waist.

why would i make up such a thing?

you're used to getting all the attention and someone comes along and wants me and not you and it's eating your guts out.

nothing you say is worth repeating.

you are an amoral, backstabbing, self-centered woman.

the hell with you and your oversexed boyfriend.

she deserves to know what kind of person he really is.

why does everything happen to me?

isn't there some way we can settle this like rational adults?

how dare you leave in the middle of a fight.

now hold it right there.

i'm not fooling around.

look at him. he's twitching and blinking, he's lying.

i have just never felt so betrayed in all my life.

i haven't been a good friend to a lot of people, but i have been a very good friend to you.

you take some stranger's word over mine?

who'd believe they'd break up their friendship over a man?

i can't just stand by and watch this happen.

i take awhile to warm up, but once i get going i can turn your topsoil til the cows come home.

i probably lost one of my best friends because of you.

i've been an idiot through this whole thing.

there's no excuse for my behavior.

i didn't believe you because i didn't want to.

nobody ever believes me when i'm telling the truth.

it's the curse of being a devastatingly beautiful woman.

you miss a lot of things.

it wasn't my fault, i promise.

i'd keep an eye on this one.

i'm just so glad you're alright.

i'm willing to overlook this little incident.

i don't believe in hitting children.

personally, i like to lay into a kid with a melon baller.

if i breathe and it bothers you, put a pillow over my face.

what are you trying to do, pickle yourself?

what am i supposed to do, just sit around and listen to your arteries harden?

i am having a real problem with your attitude.

you can all just kiss my attitude.

is that all you italians know how to do, scream and hit?

you had no right to hit him.

i'd rather be alone than trapped here with you.

idle hands are the devil's workshop.

he might even start feeling good about himself.

crossing the street without getting pregnant was a chore back then.

life is full of crappy stuff to do.

you can tough it out or you can let it beat you.

it wouldn't be fair to be this old and have to raise children.

[silver-dragonborn]

Here are some of my thoughts on a few fics I may or may not finish due to work, real life, and depression. Episode One of HOTD gave me some new insight into Alicent Hightower and the family dynamics of the Blacks as well as the dragons...specifically Cannibal (got a crack theory for this one).

-) 1. When news of Lucerys' death breaks out, Rhaena steals a horse in the middle of the night and sneaks off to claim the Cannibal. Don't get me wrong, I love Morning and I want Rhaena to hatch her pretty pink Barbie dragon, but I'm angling for a darker turn in which Rhaena swears a terrible oath of vengeance and claims Cannibal.

I have a theory that Cannibal is a dragon-like alien who fell from the deepest corners of space and has lived this long because dragon eggs and hatchlings provide him with the nourishment he needs to replenish his strength to make the long trip back to his home planet.

However, if he were to eat a much larger dragon, like Vhagar, he'd grow in size and never have to eat a single egg again. Cannibal is unnatural and does not belong on this planet, but when this slip of a girl approaches him with promises of a grand "feast" his interest is piqued and he lowers his wing for her to climb upon his back. It's only after Cannibal devours Vhagar's corpse (bones and all) that he realizes that he finally has plenty of strength to return to the stars...but this little human has shown much courage and kept her end of the bargain...it wouldn't hurt to stay. After all, his human is a delight, and this funny human war will provide him with more dragons to feast on and make him even bigger...and stronger.

Rhaena claiming the space eldritch monster is what I need and poor Sunfyre and Tessarion are next on the menu. Also, Rhaena the Devourer has a nice ring to it.

-) 2. The older Black kids, Jace, Baela, Rhaena, and Luke, are sent back in time to avenge their family and crown Rhaenyra. Super dark because they're war-torn adults trapped in children's bodies, dealing with issues ranging from PTSD, lack of sleep, trauma, short tempers, etc. They're not in a merciful mood and will go scorched earth on the Hightowers as well as re-establish House Targaryen once more as the House not to be fucked with. Poor Rhaenyra will wonder what happened to her sweet boys while Daemon can barely recognize his daughters who are suddenly far more vicious than him.

Expect lots of gore, senseless violence, political machinations, and each Green meeting their demise. Dyana will also be making an appearance and serving as the right-hand woman of Baela because damn it, if anyone deserves justice and a happy ending it's her.

-) 3. Mourning over the loss of his son, a drunken Aegon accidentally stumbles upon Ser Cristol Cole and his mother messing around in Rhaenyra's chambers and loses his shit. His wine-addled mind causes him to blame their pair for his son's death and he proceeds to put them on trial, but not before gelding Ser Criston and flogging his mother. From there, the Greens unravel from the inside and turn on each other like rats because, by the end of the day, there is no honor among thieves. In short, Rhaenyra takes back her throne without losing any more children because the Greens turned on each other.

It just goes to show that traumatizing your kids, physically abusing them, forcing them to obsess over their older sister, and cruelly denying them their true heritage all because its "queer customs" make you uncomfortable will blow up in your face and then some.

Alicent is going to find out real fucking quick that the men she has fought for her entire life will happily throw her into the fire to keep themselves warm and that the cruelty of the Faith knows no bounds.

-) 4. Aegon makes Ser Criston Cole his Hand after sacking his grandfather. Now the second most powerful man in Westeros, Criston proposes marriage to Alicent, but like Rhaenyra before her, Alicent rejects him, reminding him of his low rank and their incompatibilities. Once again, Criston turns against another noblewoman for rejecting him, except now he has the power to make Alicent's life a living hell. Alicent realizes with cold clarity the type of man he truly is and that she should have left him to rot on Driftmark.

There is...a special kind of horror of being at the mercy of cruel, powerful men who have no respect for women. Remember, this is the same man who bashed. another man's face and tormented Rhaenyra for YEARS all because she refused to be poor with him. I will be writing Criston as he is: A petty, cruel incel who has no business being in charge. Emphasis on the cruel part...poor Alicent is not prepared for what he has planned for her nor is she prepared for how Aegon and Aemond will turn a blind eye like Viserys did. After all, Criston is the dad who stepped up, and his "sons" have inherited the worst of his traits from him.

[fox-steward]

Hello, this ask is probably going to be rather heavy, so it's fine if you don't want to respond to it.

So my situation is that for several years (from 13 to 17) I considered myself to be a man trapped in a woman's body and wanted to transition to become "my true self". However, since then I became gender critical and stopped pursuing transition because it would not fix my internal issues and above all it would not actually ever make me male. So transitioning became pointless to me.

Now as an adult however, I've recently started feeling my desire to transition creeping back on me, although this time it was because of how apparent it became to me how misogyny all around the world is seen as a non-issue. Every day I hear of women dying, being sexually assaulted, forcefully impregnated and in general being disrespected by everyone. All of this became too much for me to handle so that's why my desire for transition came back. (Not to mention that I'm the only GNC woman in my social circles, so there is also the added alienation from other women.)

I think my question is: is it really that bad to transition in order to avoid or at least lessen the amount of misogyny i face every day? I know that by doing so I would be throwing other women under the bus, but I'm not mentally strong enough to challenge the oppression women face. I know that transitioning would make me miserable in many ways and probably physically sick as well (with all the hormonal side effects), but at least it would mean that men would harass me less. I'd rather be safe than happy.

you don’t need anyone’s permission to make that choice, but i will reflect back to you some of the truly limited insight i can glean from this message:

you already think transition will be bad for you, both for your physical body and your mental health.

you don’t seem to believe the central tenet of gender ideology that generally allows trans people to persist in their identification.

you seem like you feel isolated and alone, mentioning being the only GNC woman in your group. perhaps trying to find other GNC women is a safer and more attractive goal for you than transitioning?

you’re right that misogyny is everywhere, but some of the examples you mention make me think you’re spending a lot of time online where your exposure to these things may be magnifying the role they’re playing in your everyday life. maybe i’m wrong and all these things are truly happening TO you, but if they’re not, there’s no shame in limiting your exposure to them. same concept as doom-scrolling affecting how people view society. you don’t need this, but i give you permission to look away from the carnage sometimes so that you may look upon your own life with love and appreciation, because there likely are things there to love and appreciate.

you aren’t single-handedly responsible for challenging the oppression women face, and an inability to fix it all doesn’t mean whatever you can do (something as seemingly small as being a visibly masculine woman who gives a little girl hope for how she can be in the future) isn’t meaningful.

best of luck to you, and i get it; it makes sense to want to hide, and camouflage is a widely used survival technique in prey animals. but our lives are not so purely animalistic, we must also create meaning to live fully. i want that for you as i want that for me.

[lipeg]

Rusted Knight found herself unconscious in a forest.

The knight set out on a journey to free the one within him.

The knight and the man who called himself Jaune are not the same person.

When he put on the helmet, the person known as Jaune would disappear and the Rusted Knight would take control of the body.

Determined to find a cure for this problem.

The knight traveled to the deepest and most forbidden places of Ever Alter.

Determined to give Jaune his life back.

The knight was being accompanied by the Jackalope named Juniper.

The knight and Juniper accidentally managed to get out Even Alter.

They fell into another world.

Juniper returned to the stage where she was a child.

The knight was immobile due to several of his bones being broken.

It would take a few hours for him to heal on his own.

???: Hello strange

The knight slowly turned his head.

A child?

That was the knight's thought but her voice was that of an adult woman.

???: I see it's all broken, let me help you

The knight saw that child had a staff in his left hand and began to swing the staff and utter some strange words.

He felt a strange sensation.

His body was being healed but he was disappearing.

The knight was happy that Jaune was back.

Jaune began to awaken.

He had been trapped in his own mind for a while.

Jaune opened his eyes and he didn't recognize where he was.

He took off his helmet.

Jaune stood up.

Jaune: Thank you little girl

???: little girl? I'm older than you, I'm 1000+ old

Jaune: But you don't look like you have 1000 age

???: I know. I am Frieren The Elf

Jaune: Jaune Arc

Frieren: What are you doing here

Jaune: I don't know, I have no idea how I got here

Baby Juniper arrived on the scene.

Jaune picked up Juniper and placed her on his right shoulder.

Frieren: You have a very powerful mystical creature

Jaune: Really?

Frieren: Yeah. Come with me and I will show you the powers of this little creature

Jaune: ok

[couldnt-think-of-a-funny-name]

I agree with the decision to age Claudia up and the season 2 actress is giving a great performance but like...I'm sorry she just doesn't really look like a little girl. she keeps going on about how hard it is to be trapped in a child's body and people keep condescending her but if I came across this Claudia I'd just assume she's a short adult woman

[msbigredmachine]

TARGETS - 24 - A Woman’s Instinct

Roman Reigns is an agent in the secret organisation The Authority and one of the world’s deadliest assassins. When he crosses paths with a mysterious woman during an assignment, he makes a life-changing decision that switches his role from the hunter to the hunted.  (AU Espionage Story)

A/N: I’m SO happy that so many of you are enjoying this story. Thank you all for the love!

TARGETS MASTERLIST

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

gif by @jeysuso​

Roman sat quietly on the window seat of Leona’s guest room, looking down at the shrubbery below. It was an inconspicuous, harmless-looking garden, but Roman knew Leona had it booby-trapped. He stared out into the distance, his rampant thoughts having kept him awake for hours.

Twenty-four hours had passed since Roman and Jasmine sought refuge in Leona's home. He was still trying to process the fact that he was now a fugitive. He had no job, no home, and it turned out The Authority had frozen his bank accounts and his assets, essentially grounding him if he wanted to flee the country like his girlfriend wanted. The hunter had become the hunted. 

When did things become such a mess? More importantly, why did The Authority want him dead? Because he met Jasmine? Decided to pursue a relationship with her? He hadn't known who she really was until just over three weeks ago. If Xavier Woods was indeed correct and The Authority and F.L.O.R.A. had known their true identities all this time, then why had they not said anything to him? Why hadn't they warned him?

Simple. The Authority had never trusted him.

That was the only explanation he had. He'd played it over and over in his head and that was the conclusion he kept coming to. But if they thought coming after him would change his mind about being with Jasmine, that he would not retaliate in some way or form...then they were gravely mistaken. He'd given The Authority his entire adult life, and they betrayed him simply because he fell in love. Well, he wasn't going down, not without a fight. Not without taking the whole fucking lot of them with him.

“You’re fine as fuck, you know that?”

His girlfriend’s soft, semi-sleepy voice yanked him out of his thoughts. She stared at her boyfriend from her vantage point on the small bed, a dreamy smile on her pretty face. Roman felt his body relax as he returned her smile. He took his foot off the ledge and set it on the floor. “Come here,” he said.

Getting out of the bed, Jasmine strolled over to him. Even wearing just his t-shirt, she looked mesmerizing. He opened his arms out to her and she crawled onto his lap, giving him a soft, gentle kiss in greeting. “Mmm, fine and cuddly. Good morning, my love,” she said, stroking the back of his head.

“Mornin’, baby girl.” Roman held her close, pressing a kiss to her neck as he locked his arms securely around her slender waist. In the months they’d been together, she had woken in him a need for closeness and intimacy that he had never felt before. She showed him a lot of affection and he found himself doing the same with her. It made him feel good. “You comfy like this?” he asked. 

“Mm hmm,” she murmured, hearing his sharp inhale when she shifted, sitting right on his groin. “You alright, baby?”

The smirk in her tone told him his little minx knew exactly what she was doing. “I’m fine,” he murmured through gritted teeth. 

“You sure?” She rolled her hips, deliberately this time. 

“Behave, Leona is right next door,” he warned. This was how she had teased him last night, grinding her ass against his groin as they lay in bed together, with him unable to do anything because they were guests in his former mentor’s house.

“Look at you, getting all pious on me. Thought your self-control was impeccable,” she teased.

Growling, he palmed her ass and rubbed his nose in the crook of her neck. “It used to be. Then I met your sexy ass and all of that went to shit.”

Giggling softly, she massaged the back of his head and kissed his temple. “If that’s your version of a compliment, then thank you.”

Roman chuckled at her little quip and inhaled her scent with a deep sigh. She was all he had left now, the only thing in his life that meant anything to him. Her familiar warmth enveloped him, calmed him. Their arms wrapped a little tighter around each other, savoring this private, peaceful moment. The quiet after the storm. For now.

“It’s my birthday today,” he mumbled into her shoulder.

Taken by surprise, Jasmine pulled back to look into his eyes and realized he was not joking. “Wait, for real?”

“Mm-hmm, but I don’t acknowledge it. It’s just any other day for me.”

“Why?”

Exhaling heavily, Roman pinched the bridge of his nose, already hating the feelings bubbling within him. “My parents split up on my seventh birthday.  Every year after that, my mom would lock me out of the house for the entire day. Said giving birth to me was the worst day of her life and she didn’t need to be reminded of it. Shit went on for years.”

She couldn’t fathom it. In the twelve years she’d known her parents for, she was showered with gifts every year for her birthday. In her father and mother’s eyes, she was their little princess and they treated her as such. It saddened her to know her boyfriend did not grow up with the same happy memories. “I’m sorry to say this, but your mother was a terrible human being,” said Jasmine, barely containing her fury. “How could she treat her own child like that?” 

“Don’t be sorry. It’s the truth.”

“Maybe, but that don’t make it right. She was supposed to love and care for you but she didn’t, and that kills me for you, baby.” She caressed the back of his head, her heart breaking afresh for him. “We’ve never really talked about having kids,” she pointed out. “Is that why? Do you not want any because of your childhood trauma?”

“I don’t know if it’s trauma…”

“Of course it is! From everything you’ve told me, your childhood was a nightmare. You lived in poverty. Your mother had your father murdered. She physically abused you for years. You killed her and her boyfriend. That’s not normal, Roman. Not at all.”

“I have never been normal, baby girl, and I’ve made peace with it. Besides, our line of work is too dangerous to bring children into. You know that.”

“We can teach them to defend themselves,” she replied. “I wish I knew how to fight when I was younger. That way, I could probably have saved my parents...”

They had talked about so much on the train ride to Vermont, including their acutely contrasting upbringing. Jasmine lived a serene life as a child, carefree and sheltered and innocent. It broke Roman’s heart to know that all of that had been brutally ripped away from her, that she had had to witness the horror of her parents’ murder, and was forced to turn to this violent, cold life. “You didn’t stand a chance against five armed men. You were a kid.”

“I could have tried.”

“You can’t possibly blame yourself for their deaths, baby girl. There was nothing you could do.”

She lowered her head, her voice small and sad. “It’s been so hard to come to terms with that. Even after I threw that motherfucker off the roof, it didn’t feel enough. Though I got closure, I didn’t feel all that much better because I was never getting my parents back. My work has been my coping mechanism ever since.”

“And look at us now. All fucked up and killing people for a living. Speaking of, how many?” Roman asked.

“How many what?”

“How many people have you taken out?"

Jasmine's eyes narrowed at the strange question. "Really? You wanna know this because?"

"I'm just curious," he defended. "Just give me a number, then I won't ask anything else, I promise."

Jasmine looked away.

"Okay, I'll go first," Roman offered. She pursed her lips, knowing this was the only way they would move on. "Alright, you first. How many?"

He shrugged, looking at his hands. "Round figure, probably about two hundred, two fifty total. You?"

"Including the man that murdered my parents?" she calculated, "Three hundred and seventy-six."

Roman went pale. "Holy shit!"

"You asked, I told," she shrugged.

"How the hell did you get to that figure?" he exclaimed.

"Some were in groups. Five, ten." She leveled her boyfriend with an amused glare. "Does it bother you?"

Roman swallowed. "No."

Jasmine eyed him for a moment before dissolving into giggles. “Liar. But don’t worry, you’ll get over it,” she whispered with a kiss to his cheek, leaning into him. "I want to get in contact with Rose. Give her a call." When his brows furrowed questioningly, she added, "My colleague from F.L.O.R.A."

"F.L.O.R.A.?" Roman's eyes widened with indignation. "You fuckin’ with me, right?"

"I'm not. I trust her."

"I trust Ambrose and Rollins too but you don't see me making contact with them because it’s too fucking risky! And how do you know you won't lead them all right here with the phone call? What about Leona? She’s already been compromised enough with us just being here."

"Which is why I'm not making the call here, doofus," she explained, genuinely offended that he thought she could make such a rookie mistake. "I'm heading into town in a few days to make the call with a pay phone. Once I'm done, I'll come back here." She rolled her eyes at the disapproving look on his features. "Look, I trust Rose. I know her, and she knows me better than anyone else...including you. I truly believe she has nothing to do with what's going on. Maybe she could help us get out of this mess."

Roman frowned, not happy at all. "Sounds like you've got everything all planned out."

Jasmine sighed. "Baby, don’t start.”

Looking into her eyes, he could tell she was getting upset with him. She was just trying to help, doing what she thought was best to save them both, and he berated himself silently for his petulance. "Sorry. I know I'm being a dick."

"Again," she reminded him.

"Again," he agreed, rubbing her back as he stared up at her. "I just don't want anything to happen to you." 

His voice was quiet, worried, and Jasmine was touched. "I'll be fine. I'm a big girl and I can handle myself. You of all people should know that." Smiling, she traced the lines of his pec tattoo with her finger. "Still...I love that you worry about me."

Roman cupped her face between his big hands and pressed his forehead to hers. "Of course I do. You're my girl and I love you."

"I love you too," she whispered back, right before his lips met hers. The next few minutes were spent kissing and caressing each other with eager mouths and hands. She pulled off her t-shirt, revealing her breasts and her beautiful body. Tossing it aside, her mouth was back on his in a flash, framing his face with both hands as she delved deeper inside his mouth with her tongue. She reached down between their bodies and dipped her hand inside his shorts. His head spun the second her fingers made contact with his hard flesh. “Baby…” he breathed against her lips.

“Hmm?” she murmured distractedly, occupied with trying to suck his lips off his face while stroking his dick with intent.

“Babe, Leona…”

“We’ll be quiet,” she convinced him, taking his hands and placing them on her titties to keep him occupied. He dug in from then, squeezing them eagerly and sucking one nipple into his mouth. Her tits were always soft and perfect and felt just right in his hands. He played with her right nipple with his tongue. The soft, yet firm piece of skin rolled around his tongue as her whimpers were becoming soft moans.

“Shh,” he warned, his voice muffled with a mouthful of titty.

“I can’t help it Daddy, it feels so good,” she gasped, biting her lip as he sucked her other nipple, massaging her breasts with his large hands. His tongue was warm and lashed hungrily at the hardened peak, and she couldn’t stop the moan that escaped her when his teeth grazed it.

Roman stopped and glared playfully at her. “I’ll gag you if I have to,” he said sternly. In the same breath he realized he should have chosen his words more wisely, as the twinkle in her eye told him she was all for it. His sexy little slut. He recaptured her mouth in a deep, branding kiss, tangling his tongue with hers. Jasmine’s hand slid back down, pulling his dick out of his shorts with urgency. Roman grabbed her hand, stopping her.

“How bad do you want it?" he taunted.

"Oh, you doin’ this shit on purpose, aren't you?" Jasmine said.

"Damn right," he smiled.

"Roman, please…." she begged. Her body began to grind against him, desperate for him to be inside her. He relented and allowed her to guide his erect shaft into her. The pair immediately moaned from the intense feeling of her sliding down his length. Knowing that this needed to be quick, Roman rocked Jasmine back and forth on his cock. She reached back to rest her hands on his thighs as she rolled her ass with vigor, taking him deep inside her. The way she handled his dick did things to him. He was bigger than most, but she took that shit like a champ and he couldn’t help but be impressed. She was going in on the dick, riding him better than she had ever ridden him before. Roman rested his head on the window and allowed the pleasure to take over. 

“You are so sexy, babe. You been makin’ me feel some type of way for a long time,” he told Jasmine, caressing her gyrating ass with his lust-filled gaze boring into hers.

“Mmm, I like to hear that, Daddy.” This time she leaned forwards, gripping his shoulders as she continued to grind and roll herself down on him, showering his parted lips with playful kisses and licks. He soon tired of the chase and covered his mouth with hers in a kiss that curled her toes. His big hands slid up and down her waist before landing a sharp slap to her backside, his stomach tightening when she whimpered and he felt her get wetter. Her pussy clenched around his cock and she started bouncing rapidly on him. They moaned breathlessly into each other's mouths in sync with their skin smacking together loudly and wetly in repetition. She was fucking him dumb and he was loving it. 

Letting out another groan, Roman grabbed Jasmine by the hips and guided her up and down his dick with more force. She arched her head back and moaned his name, her nails digging into the skin of his broad shoulders. 

“Mm-hmm, moan my name again, baby…Say my name,” he grunted as he took a handful of her hair and gently pulled.

"Roman…Fuck, Daddy, you hittin’ my spot," she whimpered, her mouth falling open and panting in ecstasy when he held her down on him and rolled his hips upwards from underneath, his dick raking her g-spot over and over. "Oh god, yeah, Roman..."

God, he could listen to her call out for him forever. He felt his dick harden inside her as his release approached. His hands tightened on her hips as he made her ride him harder, too wrapped up in the heat of passion to bother about Leona anymore. Anyone who could see them from outside was getting a hell of a show right now. Jasmine planted her hands on the windowpane for leverage, going up and down on him, up and down, soaking his dick with her wet pussy and making his eyes roll back with a throaty whine. His breathing accelerated with the manic rocking of her hips, as she was clearly determined to make him come, and come hard. 

“Come in me, Daddy, I want your cum inside me,” she whispered.

“Yeah, baby girl? Want me to fill your pussy up with my cum?”

“Uh huh.” She kissed his lips, and then his neck. “Please, Daddy. I want it.”

Her needy, breathy voice was the pin to his grenade. He gripped her ass tightly and arched his hips, cussing loudly as he bust hard and deep inside her. It was like his soul was leaving his body, it felt that amazing. Realizing he had left her behind, he quickly reached down to play with her clit as she kept riding him. Instantly she clamped around his pulsing dick, and he groaned at the sensation, gripping her hair in his fist and giving it another firm tug. Strumming his fingers faster over her clit, he cursed under his breath as he felt her continue to tighten, and moments later, she was screaming into his shoulder, shaking in his arms as she climaxed, collapsing against him when it was all over.

The Samoan was in a daze. His girl just fucked the shit out of him and it blew his mind. Easing her off his dick, he wrapped his arms tightly around her, rubbing up and down her back as her face rested in the crook of his neck, both struggling to catch their breaths as they gradually regained control of their senses. Behind him, the window was fogged up thanks to her heavy breathing on the glass. It was a great start to his morning and he loved every minute of it.

“I should get you a present since it’s your birthday, right?” said Jasmine, lifting her head up to smile at him.

“The only present I want is something to tie up your hands with, some lube, and somewhere we can’t be heard,” Roman answered, letting his hands slide downwards to squeeze her behind. “I plan to make you scream from how good I fuck you tonight.”

Damn. That in itself warranted another kiss, which she happily gifted him. “I’ll see about it.”

“Good girl.”

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

After showering and getting dressed, Jasmine headed downstairs and found Leona bustling about in the kitchen. She noticed how much the older woman liked to cook, like to keep herself busy in the kitchen. A coping mechanism, perhaps. It was not uncommon among retired assassins. 

"Do you need some help?" she offered.

Leona looked up and smiled. "Yes, please. Help me cut those up." She pointed at some carrots and bell peppers, a chopping board and a kitchen knife. "I'm making stir-fry. Chicken and vegetables. Is that okay?”

"Definitely. That sounds tasty. Do you know it’s his birthday today? I’d like to do something nice, like make a flourless cake for him," Jasmine pointed out, and blushed at the small smile Leona threw her way. "What?"

"Nothing. It's just nice to see two young people in love, against all odds," Leona commented.

A loving smile lit up the former F.L.O.R.A agent’s face. "I didn’t know I could ever feel like this about anybody. I care so much for him, Leona."

"I know. I see the way you look at each other and treat each other. Both of you are beautiful together." 

There was something regretful about Leona's tone that triggered the curiosity that had lingered within Jasmine since the day they arrived, rather unceremoniously, at her doorstep.

"You're not really retired, are you?" she said, her eyes on Leona, and she watched as the older woman froze, her kitchen knife suspended in mid-air. When she didn't respond, Jasmine seized the opening and barreled on. "When Roman and I showed up...you were clearly anticipating someone when you tackled me. You thought we were being followed. I got a feeling you've never treated Roman like that before. Plus you've still got weapons hidden everywhere and a rigged garden. I know that's the standard of living for a retired assassin. We never really feel safe, even after all is said and done." Jasmine peered closely at Leona, who still hadn't moved. "But there's something more. You're hiding from someone. You've been hiding all this time."

Leona slowly turned, and Jasmine saw the truth radiating in her eyes. A sardonic chuckle left the older woman's lips. "Roman's known me for years and I don’t think he’s ever guessed. You've only been here twenty-four hours and you've already figured it out. I've underestimated you."

"Let's just say it's a woman's instinct," Jasmine offered.

Leona remained silent, but Jasmine could hear the faint echo of that wordless mental scream grow louder and louder, as whatever secret anguish the former assassin had carried within herself all this time was dragged back to the surface. Jasmine approached her, placing a hand on her arm. The gesture seemed to literally rip Leona away from her thoughts and bring her back to reality. Jasmine met her gaze solemnly. "You can tell me," she encouraged.

For a long time, Leona did not move. Then, she looked around the kitchen for a moment, her expression remorseful, as though apologizing for tainting her place of Zen with her morbid memories. She gently led Jasmine to the table and sat her down. Taking a deep breath, she began to speak.

"I was an agent at The Authority for many years, and I served as Director for most of my time there. The current Director was my protégé back then. I taught him everything he knew, and we worked well together. My story is quite similar to yours. I fell in love with a man, a target I was supposed to eliminate. His name was Dwayne. He was a bodybuilder who wanted to be an actor. He had big, big dreams." A small smile crossed her face at the memory. "I loved him the moment I laid eyes on him. He was just so different and so amazing. We began seeing each other, but he didn't know who I really was, what I did for a living, and he was better off not knowing if I was going to keep him safe. I lied about taking out Dwayne and kept him a secret, and for a long time it worked.

"Until Hunter found out. He told me to either eliminate Dwayne, or give up my position as Director of the Authority. Either way, he planned to expose me. I always knew he wanted power but I never realized he would blackmail me. I agreed to kill Dwayne, but instead I tried to hide him away. I knew my actions had consequences, but I didn't care what they did to me. All I cared about was that I loved Dwayne, and Dwayne loved me. I had to tell him everything, and he listened the entire time. Not once did he judge me. Not once. I put his safety first. He was the only thing that mattered to me."

"Did he escape?" Jasmine asked, although she could already guess the answer.

Leona's eyes glazed over. "No. The Authority found him, and they executed him right in front of me. Put three bullets in his head. His head was blown apart before the third bullet hit..." The older woman trailed off, pressing a hand to her mouth to keep from sobbing. Jasmine watched in silence, unsure whether to comfort her or not.

Leona had composed herself enough to speak again, ending Jasmine's internal debate. "I knew…I knew Hunter was in love with me. He'd mentioned it a number of times to me in private, but I never took him seriously. I didn't feel that way about him, and even if I did, it was a risk for us to ever have a relationship in the kind of environment we were in. He accused me of choosing love over my duties to The Authority, but I knew the truth. He felt betrayed that I chose another man, a civilian, over him. So he sent people after us. They abducted me and Dwayne and they murdered him. Then they tortured me, bound and gagged me and threw me into the deepest part of the Hudson River; all on Hunter's orders. He stood there and let Dwayne die, he watched them toss me into that water like I was a bag of trash, and he didn't even flinch."

Jasmine felt a sense of guilt ripple through her. She herself had done many a dump job before, but this was the first time it was invoking an emotional response in her. "I'm so sorry."

Leona's tears had given way to a resigned numbness. It would never be easy reliving that part of her life. "I survived. I still don't know how I did it, but I did. Washed up on dry land after managing to free myself of my bonds. I could have fled the country but I decided to come to Vermont. All these years have passed and I'm here, still biding my time. I will avenge Dwayne, and Hunter will die by my own hand. That's a promise."

"Roman doesn't know about any of this?" said Jasmine.

"No." The older woman shook her head. "Over the years he's provided me with all the information I need on how to get to Hunter, though unwittingly. I didn't mean to use him, but I ended up doing so." A faint smile tickled at the corner of her lips. "I remember the first day he found me. At first I thought Hunter sent him, but I saw in his eyes that he had no idea what was going on. I just told him I retired quietly. My first thought was to kill him and tie up a loose end, but I just couldn't. Honestly," A warm smile grew, "I've always been fond of him."

"Yeah, he's charming like that," Jasmine agreed, a bashful grin on her face at the thought of her boyfriend.

Leona studied the younger woman for several seconds. "I see myself in you, you know," she spoke softly, reaching out to take her hand. "You remind me of me during that time. I see the conflict in your eyes. You want to go on the run because it's the only way you feel you can protect Roman. That the further you run the harder it will be to find you. But in the end...they always find you. We both know that. These people are equipped with enough resources to find you no matter where you go, and it won't end unless you stop them, or they stop you. So I need to know something, Jasmine, and I need you to be honest with me. Just how much do you love Roman?"

Her answer was sincere and passionate, "More than my own life."

"Then you must fight for him," Leona told her with equal emotion. "You're both strong enough to put a stop to this. Do not let these people have a say in your lives anymore because they won't stop until both of you are dead. Fight with him, because I know he's doing this for you. Show him that you're on the same page."

"I am, and I will," Jasmine replied, her eyes ablaze with resolve.

As the two women continued to talk, Roman stood quietly by the entrance of the kitchen, out of sight, having heard every word. That itching sensation in his hands surfaced again, as he imagined them wrapped around Hunter Hearst Helmsley's throat.

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

Despite the inconvenience, Leona was a gracious, generous host. Joining forces with Jasmine, they whipped up quite the spread, making several extra dishes for what ended up as a party, as well as a tasty chocolate cake for Roman. She even found some old party hats, balloons and streamers to decorate the kitchen with. It was hilarious seeing one of those tiny pointy hats perched on Roman’s big head. As thrown together as the party was, the birthday boy couldn’t be happier to celebrate his birthday with the two most important women in his life.

As she loaded up the dishwasher, Leona glanced over at the startlingly attractive couple sitting at the kitchen counter, smiling softly as she watched Jasmine feed Roman cake with a fork, in between sharing sweet kisses. They really were cute together. “By the way…I got a basement downstairs. It’s soundproof,” she announced.

There was a devious gleam in her eyes that piqued the couple’s curiosity. They looked at each other, their eyes widening with realization. “Oh?” Roman finally spoke, as Jasmine blushed profusely. Yeah, she definitely heard them going at it this morning.

“Mm-hmm. That’s if you’re interested. There’s a big bed…and a box of toys…Not sure what y’all like, but there’s enough to entertain yourselves with. Y’all knock yourselves out. Not literally, of course.” With a wink, she washed her hands and left the couple to process all she had just told them.

An embarrassed Jasmine ducked her head in Roman’s shoulder as the big man grinned from ear to ear. “You’re the best, Leona!” he called out after her.

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

Thoughts?

Credit to the owners of the pics and gifs.

Please leave comments! I love comments!

[maddie-dog-story-blog]

The Birthday - 5

PREVIOUS CHAPTER

I watch as my wife, with a smug expression smeared across her face, walks over to the couch and sits down. Staring directly at me, she spreads her legs, putting her panty-covered pussy perfectly on display to me. Her purple lingerie, so adult, so sexy, mocks me as I sit on the floor, trapped in the giant diaper she locked me in.

I then watch as Melody moves her hand to her crotch, sliding her manicured fingers into her panties. She bites her lip as she starts to gently work her clitoris. I can feel myself getting hard in my padded prison. Subconsciously, I feel myself start to thrust my hips into the floor. The frustration from not cumming after the hand jobs and blow jobs Melody gave me during the diaper change beginning to overtake my psyche.

Melody starts to moan and thrust her hips into her own hand as she rubs. Without slowly down, she looks down at me with a satisfied grin.

"Does the big baby like watching Mommy play with her big girl parts? Is he jealous of Mommy's fingers?" Her mocking was followed immediately by a deep moan. My wife was clearly getting off on the power she had over me.

In almost any other situation, this would be incredibly hot. Watching my wife pleasure herself for my benefit was one of my fantasies--one that Melody had never acted on before. However, internally, I couldn't enjoy the situation, knowing she was getting off on the idea of forcing me to regress and debase myself in front of her.

"No, I'm not jealous of your fingers, but I am happy that you are enjoying yourself," I said as cooly and maturely as I could muster from my position, diapered on the floor.

"Oh, don't be Mr. Pouty Britches, I can tell you like this. Mommy's always know," Melody said, pausing briefly to let out a moan. "Why don't you get off your high horse and show Mommy what watching this makes you want to do to her? Show me how you want to fuck me right now with Princess Bear."

"No," I said determinedly, pushing the giant bear to the side.

Melody sighed in disappointment at my refusal to obey. She pulled her hand out of her panties, placed both hands on her knees, and leaned forward, staring at me intensely.

"I didn't want to have to do this, baby. I wanted it to be your choice. But, clearly, you haven't learned who is in charge yet," she said. "But, I'll give you an out. If you are telling the truth, if you REALLY don't want to have sex with me right now, you'll get to hold on to that little bit of dignity you find so precious."

I swallowed nervously, calming my mind to try and fight off whatever hypnotic suggestion was coming next.

"Mommy says fuck Princess Bear exactly how you want to fuck Mommy right now."

I closed my eyes and tried to focus. I tried to convince myself I wasn't turned on and that I wanted nothing to do with the woman that was torturing me right now. Anything to fight the desire--the need--I was feeling to ravage the giant teddy bear sitting next to me.

Only moments after my eyes were closed, I heard the rustle of fingers pushing past lace and Melody's moans start up again. I opened my eyes to be greeted by the sight of my wife furiously pleasuring herself.

"Mmmmhmmmm, yeah, that's it baby, that's the spot," she said.

God, it was so fucking hot. I just wanted to crawl over and start eating her out until she was close, and then flip her around doggy style and fuck her until with both finished. That thought triggered to doom for my dignity.

Hypnotic command in place and triggered by my own uncontrollable horniness, my body went to work. I felt myself crawl over and grab Princess Bear. I then grabbed the giant stuffed animal and dragged it over to the couch where Melody sat. Melody, smiling at me curiously, slowed down the process of pleasuring herself. Once at the couch, I rose to my knees, picked up Princess Bear, and sat the stuffy on the couch with it's legs spread. I positioned my head between the teddy bears legs. Then, with an internal scream, I dove in.

I could hear Melody begin to laugh uproariously as I opened my mouth and started to drag my tongue across the soft, fluffy fabric of the bear. I could feel my cheeks turning red as I licked, sucked, and nibbled on the fabric that made up the crotched of the giant stuffed animal.

Despite my embarrassment, the act of eating out Princess Bear like my wife, while my wife watched, was turning me on. My cock pressed hard against the soft padding of my diaper. I let a hand slip down and stared to rub my plastic covered crotch to increase my own pleasure.

"That's it baby, eat out Princess Bear. Show her what a generous lover you are for Mommy. Show her how you want to take care of Mommy," Melody said as she sat next to the giant bear, watching me simulate giving her oral on the toy.

Despite not being capable of looking over to see Melody, I could tell she was enjoying my show from the sounds she was making. I could here her hand rubbing against the fabric of her panties. Further, as she encouraged me to keep going, I could here her breaths getting shorter and deeper. As I kept rubbing myself and eating the bear out, her once infrequent moans became more and more regular. After what felt like hours to me, but was probably just moment, I could tell that my wife was on the verge of cumming. That was my signal.

I stopped pretending to orally pleasure the giant, stuffed bear that Melody had bought for me. Internally, I sighed in relief. Licking Princess Bear's fabric crotch has really dried my tongue out. Externally, I moved to the next phase of my debasement.

"Oh, no, Mommy, you don't get to finish by yourself!" I said, as if I was fucking Melody instead of a stuffed bear.

Melody jumped at my suddenly words, the raised an eyebrow and looked at me curiously.

"Is that so little boy?" She asked.

"It is," I said unbidden, a growl of lust accompanying the words.

With that I grabbed Princess Bear by the hips, pulled the bear off the couch, the flipped it over. I then beant the stuffed animal over the seat of the couch, exposing the poor toy's behind under the tuel, ballet skirt, and gave it's butt a playful smack. I then pulled myself and mounted the bear, pressing my diapered crotch firmly against its stuffed rear end. Then, like I have done so many times to Melody in this position, I grabbed Princess Bear by the top of the head, where Melody's hair would have been, forcefully, but generally, pulled the bears head back, and spoke.

"You're going to like this," I growled.

I could hear Melody giggle as I then began thrusting my padded crotch into the exposed ass of the stuffed animal rhythmically. The sound made me blush, but, no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't stop.

It only took a few of my thrusts into Princess Bear for Melody's giggles to once again be replaced by moans.

"That's right baby! Show me what you want to do to Mommy. Thrust that diapered butt!" She cheered me on between moans.

I blushed at Melody's taunts, but I still couldn't convince my body to stop. The pressure of thrusting my padded dick against the stuffed bear felt amazing. My member throbbed with pleasure with each press of my body into the toy. It felt so good, I stated to thrust harder. My moans of pleasured mixing with my wife's. If I closed my eyes, I found it easy to imagine that it was Melody I had beant over the couch rather than Princess Bear.

As I continued to hump Princess Bear just like the pathetic, diapered protagonists in the stories I'd written, I heard Melody's breaths begin to quicken as her moans lengthened. I closed my eyes, pretending I was fucking her with all of my imagination. I humped quicker and harder as she got close, imagining that it was me, not her fingers, pushing her over the edge.

My own pleasure crested as hers did. As Melody's moans shifted to the scream that signified that her body was being overtaken by an orgasm, I felt as if I was right on the edge of bursting as well. I increased the already frantic pace of my thrusts.

"That's right Mommy! Take that Mommy! That's what you like!" I said, cringing internally at my attempts to say 'Melody' transforming to 'Mommy' as they left my lips.

Melody screamed again. I opened my eyes to watch her body shake as her muscles contracted and relaxed uncontrollably as she came again. I stated thrusting harder, wanting to experience that pleasure for myself. However, no matter how frantically I humped Princess Bear, I couldn't force myself over the edge. The dry padding of the diaper offered too little resistance and just didn't feel right against my dick.

Tears started to roll down my face involuntarily as I continued to dry hump my stuffy. My frustration was overcoming even my shame. Melody, her orgasms over, turned to me, reached out a hand, and stroked the side of my face lovingly.

"What's wrong baby? Can't cum?" She asked, a hint of real concern in her voice.

"Yes," I panted as I continued to fuck the bear, unable to stop, "It doesn't feel right."

"You know what would help?" Melody offered, "If you wet your diaper. I bet a warm, wet diaper would feel an awful lot like Mommy's warm, wet pussy."

I cringed at the thought. Wetting a diaper just to be able to cum was exactly the humiliating behavior I would attribute to a character in one of my stories that I was trying to avoid. However, it was clear that my wife's command, that I 'fuck Princess Bear exactly how I wanted to fuck' her, meant I wouldn't be able to stop molesting the stuffed bear until I came. Cumming in Melody was precisely what I wanted to do.

So, with no other options, I temporarily ceased humping Princess Bear. I focused all of my attention on my bladder, and I pushed. A soft hissing noise filled the air as I felt a warm wetness spread across my crotch. My hypnotized body smiled involuntarily as I cringed inside. Why did this feel so good?

"Good boy!" Melody said, getting off the couch as walking up behind me, "Wet that diaper like the baby you are."

I closed my eyes as I finished, hoping that by shutting out the world, maybe I could avoid some embarrassment.

"Now, let's let you finish. Show Princess Bear what you really want to do to Mommy."

I felt Melody's hands on the sides of my hips, her thumbs pressing lightly into my back as her fingers wrapped towards my front. Gently, she started guiding my emotions, encouraging me to hump the stuffed bear I had pinned over our couch.

Desperate to get this over with, I complied. Starting slowly, I began to thrust my padded crotch into Princess Bear's ass again. Guided by Melody, those thrusts quickly picked up steam. As I jumped the bear, I noticed the sensation on my penis felt significantly different in a wet rather than dry diaper.

The padding was softer and easier to condense, making it easier for me to apply the necessary pressure to myself. The warmth and wetness also felt good. Just as Melody has suggested, those sensations allowed me to pretend, at least a little bit, that I was fucking a vagina rather than humping a stuffed bear.

Melody started to rub my back as I my emotions picked up steam.

"That's it baby! Cum for Mommy! Make stickies for me! Show me what a big boy you are!" She whispered in my ear.

It didn't take long after that. Within a few thrusts, I peaked. My dick pulsed in it padded prison as I shot warm, sticky cum into my already wet diaper. I laid all my weight on Princess Bear as I let my body convulse with pleasure. I groaned as I shot multiple loads of my hot seed into my waiting diaper.

I let my body go slack as I finished. As I felt my conscious brain retake control, I felt shame over take me. Without moving from my spot, laying on Princess Bear, dangling off the couch, I buried my face in the stuffed animals back and began to cry.

Once again, Melody had broken me. Not only had she forced me to debase myself by performing unspeakable acts on a stuffed bear, she had convinced me to voluntarily wet my diaper again. She has once again shattered my self-image as an assertive, unbreakable, daddy dom and shown me how easily I could be convinced to act like a pathetic man-baby.

As I cried, I felt my wife's hand rubbing up and down my naked back.

"It's okay baby. You were a good baby for Mommy! A very good baby for Mommy!" She said comfortingly. "I know this must be hard for you, but being my baby comes with some treats too. Are you ready for a treat?"

I didn't know how to respond. All I wanted to do was melt away and die. This all felt like too much.

"Let's get you your treat. I promise you'll like it," Melody said as I continued to sob into the stuffed bear beneath me.

NEXT CHAPTER