#along with command + z
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trevisos · 15 days ago
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the way magpie says something silly and neve does that little smile and look away

 girl is down Horrendous.
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also i love the way magpie settled back into her chair here. u know that move seduced half of the closeted bisexual 20-something women in treviso once upon a time
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heartpiratedrabbles · 10 months ago
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Tired Sex
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Prompt: You wake up to Zoro coming in late and slightly drunk. To tired to fully wake up but more than happy to help him.
NSFW
Roronoa Zoro X Reader
You woke up to some stumbling in the dark. Sighing a bit as you shift over in the bed to allow room for Zoro. Lifting your head a bit to allow his arm to go under you as his other arm wrapped around your waist, pulling your back into his chest. “How were the drinks?” Your half-hearted question mumbled out of your drowsy mouth as he squeezed you close.
         His lips were in your hair, he attempted to say something but it was too slurred and muffled to truly be heard. Although you did notice when he hips grinded against your ass, the obvious hardness pressing against you. “Yea?” You ask, meeting the subtle grind with your own push back into him. You hear him grunt while the hand around your waist grips your chest with vigor, squeezing and pulling as if his life depended on it.
         Your arm wraps around, dusting over his hips that were still rotating into you, finding the band of his briefs, before dipping to hold into his skin directly, fingers lightly squeezing the taught skin. You extend your neck just enough to invite him to start kissing along your jaw. “Do you want something?” You tease, thrusting back into him for emphasis. He growls at you but doesn’t respond as his hands move to your own underwear, tugging twice at the band before twisting to rid himself of his briefs.
         You follow suit, your ankle getting caught enough for you to kick your leg out a couple times, your own clothing being tossed somewhere in the dark room. He returns to his position, pulling you close to him again, this time his cock brushing against the skin of your ass before slipping between your thighs. One hand on your hip while the other was at the base of your neck, pushing your back to angle you down.
         You allow him to move your body, one of your legs lifting and wrapping behind his own legs that were firmly pressed against you. The tip of his cock barely brushing against your entrance that was more than willing to accept the intrusion, if only it could make its way inside.
         “Zoro” Your groan out as his haphazard thrust misses the needy hole again, his hand wrapping around your thigh, pulling you open just a little more before trying again. You let out a frustrated moan before reaching between your legs, grabbing hold of the throbbing member attempting to lead it to the sweet release your half-asleep mind is looking for.
         Instead, Zoro thrusts into your hand, his fingers digging deeper into you. “Be patient you bastard,” You hiss out, rotating your hips until he’s placed perfectly, sinking back just enough to feel his tip enter you. A satisfied sigh seeps out of your lips before a surprised moan escapes your lips, eyes popping open as he buries himself in you.
         “My needy little slut~” his slurred words sink into your ears before he pulls out, slamming back into you. Your hands grip at the sheets before he twists the both of you. Now pressed into the mattress, his elbow supporting himself next to your head while the other brushes down your back before lifting your ass to meet his thrusts better.
         The pressure felt amazing, yet your sleepiness left your head groggy. Moaning out Zoro’s name making him go faster while he stares down at you twitching body underneath him. You glance behind you, twisting your head around to make out the shadow that’s illuminated from the moon coming in the window. His low moans and heavy breathing hitting your ears.
         “Turn.” The single command as he pulled out had you twisting to lay on your back, your legs arching to either side of him as he quickly slides back into you.
         “Z-Zoro” You moan out, knowing you were too tired to jump of the edge entirely. Your walls clenched around him that felt great, but there was no building, no release in sight as you continued to gasp out how good he felt. After more than enough time you realized he wouldn’t let up. Sleepy sex was amazing, but you were still tired, wanting to return to the darkness of dreams. “I want you to cum~” the moan left your lips as you clenched your ab muscles, wrapping your legs around him entirely while tensing your thighs.
         You knew it wouldn’t truly convince him, but you dream like state had hoped he was drunk enough to believe it. You could barely make out a smirk on his face as he grunted out your name, asking if you were ready. Nodding your head as you put the back of your hand to your mouth, rotating your hips to help quicken his release.
         You arch your back slightly as you feel his thrusts get more wild, letting out a final moan as you twitched your lower body around him. Zoro pulls out just in time to paint your entrance with his seed. He stares down at his artwork, glancing at your breath steadying itself. He reaches for the side table, grabbing some tissues to clean you up before he plops down on his back.
         You turn, your legs extending across him as you lay your head on his chest. More than pleased that you can close your eyes while listening to his heart beat, letting it lull you back to sleep. And arm underneath you and wrapping around your back, keeping you close to the relaxing body, “I’m waking you up tomorrow.” The soft murmur of a threat hits you before you drift fully into sleep again.
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pretzel-box · 4 months ago
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-2- THE WALLS WHICH WILL EAT US
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word count: 5,2k
tags: GN!reader, graphic mentions of panic attacks, getting attacked
summary: You get shipped to the Hadal Blackside and start your new mission to get the crystal and Z-13, Sebastian Solace. But it seems like the visitors of the Blackside are getting you first.
The sharp scent of various chemicals invaded your senses the moment you arrived at the dock, where Urbanshade housed their high-tech submarines for underwater expeditions—expeditions much like the one you were about to embark on. The dock itself was a massive, bustling hub, with staff members moving swiftly through the vast hall, each absorbed in their own tasks. Cargo was being transported, machines were being meticulously maintained, and the air was filled with the constant hum of activity, all contributing to the strange, industrial rhythm of the place.
The dock was located within a closed hall, nestled just below water level in one of Urbanshade’s many sprawling facilities. From where you stood, you could see the vast array of technology they had developed, each piece funded by the considerable wealth of people like your father. It was impossible not to feel a sense of awe at the sheer scale of their operations. Urbanshade’s business was far more than you had imagined; mining oil from the ocean depths seemed like it was just a side hustle for them, a mere footnote in their grander, more mysterious endeavors.
As you took in your surroundings, the reality of Urbanshade’s reach began to sink in. The size of the submarines alone was staggering, each one a marvel of engineering, designed to withstand the crushing pressures of the deep sea. Workers in identical uniforms moved like clockwork, each performing their duties with practiced efficiency. The atmosphere was one of cold, calculated precision, a far cry from the chaotic hustle you had expected.
“Hey, over here.” A voice cut through your thoughts, snapping you back to reality. A tall man, dressed in the same standard-issue uniform as the others, stood before you. His demeanor was strict, his expression unreadable. He was clearly used to the environment, his posture rigid and commanding. This man was your guide, assigned to escort you through the facility, ensuring you didn’t stray from the carefully laid path Urbanshade had set for you.
“Follow me,” he instructed, his tone leaving no room for argument. He turned on his heel and began to walk, expecting you to follow without hesitation.
You fell into step behind him, your mind racing as you tried to absorb everything at once. The guide led you through a series of corridors, each more sterile and unwelcoming than the last. The walls were lined with thick metal plating, a stark reminder of the underwater pressures that lurked just beyond. Occasionally, you caught glimpses of other workers, their faces blank as they passed by, absorbed in their own duties.
As you walked, you couldn’t help but wonder what exactly Urbanshade was preparing you for. The deep levels of the ocean were a place of mystery, danger, and unimaginable pressure, both physically and mentally. And yet, here you were, about to be plunged into its depths with little more than a vague idea of what awaited you.
The guide finally stopped in front of a heavy, reinforced door. He glanced at you, his expression softening ever so slightly, before pressing a button on the wall. The door slid open with a quiet hiss, revealing the medical station beyond.
"Standard procedure," the guide said, his voice less harsh now, as if trying to offer some semblance of comfort. "They just need to make sure you’re fit for the journey ahead. Nothing to worry about."
You nodded, stepping through the doorway into the sterile, clinical environment of the medical station. The room was starkly lit, with white walls and gleaming medical equipment arranged neatly along the perimeter. A team of doctors and nurses, all dressed in pristine white uniforms, waited for you inside. Their faces were a mix of professionalism and mild curiosity, as though you were just another specimen to be examined before being sent on your way.
As the door closed behind you, sealing you in the room, the reality of your situation began to weigh heavily on you. You had to pass this final checkpoint, a thorough examination to ensure you were physically prepared for the journey ahead before getting the one-way ticket to hell.
The doctors gestured for you to sit on a cold metal chair in the center of the room. You did so, feeling the coolness seep through your clothes as they began their work, checking your vital signs, drawing blood, and performing a series of tests designed to assess your fitness for the perilous journey.
All the while, your mind kept drifting back to the massive submarines and the dark, unknown depths they were built to explore. You couldn’t shake the feeling that once you boarded one of those vessels, there would be no turning back. The only way out was through, and whatever lay ahead in the deep ocean was as vast and unknowable as the abyss itself.
As the medical team finished their assessment, the door slid open again, and your guide reappeared. His expression was as stern as before, but there was a slight nod of approval as he looked at you.
“You’re cleared,” he said simply, stepping aside to let you exit the room. “Now, let’s get you suited up. It’s time.”
With a deep breath, you followed him out of the medical station.
After the medical examination, the guide led you back through the labyrinth of hallways, deeper into the heart of the facility. Your mind raced as you walked, the sterile environment doing little to calm your nerves. You were heading toward something monumental, something that would change the course of your life, but the details were still murky, shrouded in the secrecy of Urbanshade’s operations.
Finally, you arrived at another reinforced door, larger and more imposing than the last. The guide swiped a keycard through a panel, and the door slid open with a deep, resonant hiss. Inside, a small team of technicians was bustling around a large metal chamber—your submarine. The sight of it sent a shiver down your spine. It looks like a giant dark prison that would suffocate you slowly once you step inside.
“Suit up,” the guide instructed, gesturing toward a nearby rack where a diving suit hung waiting for you.
You approached the suit, eyeing it with a mix of trepidation and curiosity. It was sleek, made from a dark, heavy material that felt both flexible and incredibly durable. The suit was designed to withstand the crushing pressures of the deep sea and most of the things that were swimming in the water such as tiny bacteria, and as you ran your fingers over it, you could feel the quality of the suit.
With some help from the technicians, you began the process of donning the suit. They worked with swift efficiency, guiding your arms and legs into the suit’s sleeves, adjusting the fit, and sealing it tight around your body. The suit clung to you like a second skin, the material warming slightly as it activated, responding to your body heat.
Next came the helmet, a heavy, reinforced piece with a full visor that provided a wide field of vision. The technicians lowered it carefully onto your head, locking it into place with a series of metallic clicks. The moment the helmet sealed, your world became slightly muffled, the sounds of the facility fading into a low hum as the suit’s internal systems took over. A heads-up display flickered to life on the visor, showing a stream of data—your vitals, oxygen levels and a myriad of other readings you couldn’t yet decipher.
The last piece of your equipment was a utility belt, which the technicians fastened securely around your waist. The belt was lined with pouches and compartments, each designed to hold the tools you’d need for the mission. You noticed a small pouch containing a syringe—likely the medication to knock out Sebastian. It had the same color as the syringe in Mr.Wiltshires office. Another compartment held the USB stick, its purpose still lingering in your mind and clearly important given its inclusion in your gear. There were other items as well—what looked like a flashlight and a single medkit.
As the final adjustments were made, the guide stepped forward, his expression as unreadable as ever. “This suit will keep you alive down there,” he said, his tone matter-of-fact. “But it’s not invincible. Be smart, and don’t push your luck.”
You nodded, trying to swallow the lump in your throat. The weight of the suit was beginning to settle in, both physically and mentally. You were about to be sealed inside a metal capsule and sent into the darkest reaches of the ocean, a place where few had ventured and even fewer had returned from. But there was no turning back now.
The guide led you toward the submarine’s entry hatch, which stood open like a gaping maw, waiting to swallow you whole. The technicians handed you a pair of thick gloves and a small pack containing a few rations and basic batteries for the flashlight—just in case.
With everything in place, you took a deep breath and stepped into the submarine. The interior was cramped, with barely enough room to stand upright. Every surface was lined with panels of blinking lights, screens displaying data, and rows of buttons and switches whose functions you could only guess at. It was a far cry from the spacious, sterile halls of the facility above.
The guide climbed in after you, maneuvering with practiced ease in the tight space. He gestured for you to sit in one of the reinforced seats bolted to the floor. You complied, feeling the seat’s harness click into place around your suit. The guide moved to the controls at the front of the vessel, flipping switches and pressing buttons with the confidence of someone who had done this many times before.
“This is it,” he said without looking back at you. “Once we close the hatch, we’ll begin the descent. The sub is fully automated, so you won’t need to do much. Just keep an eye on your vitals, and stay calm.”
The hatch began to close with a heavy clang, the last sliver of light from the outside world disappearing as the metal door sealed shut. A dull thud echoed through the chamber, followed by a series of mechanical whirs and clicks as the submarine’s systems came online.
You felt a slight shift as the vessel detached from its moorings, the faint sensation of movement signaling the start of your journey. The submarine began its slow, steady descent into the depths, the hum of the engines the only sound breaking the silence.
You glanced at the small viewport beside you, watching as the murky waters of the facility’s dock gave way to the inky blackness of the deep sea. The light from the sub’s exterior lamps cut through the darkness, revealing the occasional flicker of marine life darting past. But as you continued to descend, even those fleeting glimpses faded away, leaving you surrounded by a void so absolute it felt like you were sinking into nothingness.
The minutes stretched into what felt like hours as you descended deeper and deeper. The pressure increased with every meter, the submarine creaking and groaning in response. You kept your eyes on the HUD inside your helmet, watching the readings carefully, trying to stay calm.
Suddenly, a voice crackled through the comms, pulling you from your thoughts. “We’re reaching the operational depth,” the guide said, his voice sounding distant. “Everything’s looking good. We’ll be in position shortly.”
You nodded, even though he couldn’t see you, and took a deep breath to steady yourself. You were about to reach the point of no return, the depth where Urbanshade’s mysteries lay hidden.
As the submarine settled into position, the guide turned toward you, his face illuminated by the dim glow of the controls. “From here on out, you’re on your own,” he said, his tone serious. “Follow your mission, and you’ll be fine. And remember—whatever happens, stay focused. This isn’t just some walk in the park. What you find down here could change everything.”
With that, he pressed a final button, and the submarine’s systems hummed to life in full force. The hatch beside you opened with a loud hiss, revealing a narrow passage leading out into the deep.
It was time. You unbuckled your harness, your gloved hands moving with a new sense of purpose. The small pouch on your belt containing the syringe and USB stick felt heavier than before, a constant reminder of the stakes. You adjusted your gear one last time, ensuring everything was secure.
Then, with one final look back at the guide, you stepped out of the submarine and into the unknown.
The submarine’s departure was swift and final, leaving you standing alone in the small, dimly lit underwater dock. The hatch closed with a deep metallic thud, and the vessel immediately began its descent back into the depths, the sound of the engines fading into the surrounding water until there was nothing but silence. You were left to take in your new surroundings.
The dock itself was smaller and far more utilitarian than the one you had departed from. Heavy cargo boxes were stacked neatly along the walls, each labeled with codes and symbols you couldn’t decipher. Metal shelves held various tools and equipment, their contents slightly askew, as if someone had left in a hurry. A few tables were scattered around, covered with open crates, maps, and other items left behind by whoever had last used this space. Everything had a layer of dust on it, giving the place an eerie, abandoned feel.
As you took a cautious step forward, your boots echoed on the metal floor, breaking the stillness. The air was thick with the scent of saltwater and oil, mingled with a faint metallic tang that made your skin prickle. The lighting was low, casting long shadows that danced across the walls with each flicker of the overhead lamps.
You moved toward one of the tables, scanning its contents. A few scattered documents caught your eye, their pages yellowed and brittle. Most of the text was smudged or faded, but you could make out references to “Navi-Paths” and “Asset Collection,” terms you recognized from your briefing. Whatever had happened here, it was clear that this facility had been operational once—before it was abandoned to the deep.
Suddenly, a crackle of static filled the air, making you jump. After a moment, a voice from Urbanshade HQ cut through the noise, calm and authoritative.
“Welcome to the Hadal Blackside,” the voice began, echoing in the empty dock with an unsettling clarity. “You are now within one of the most classified zones in all of Urbanshade’s operations. Your objective is simple: collect all assets and follow the designated Navi-Path. The resources you gather here are invaluable to our continued efforts, and your success is imperative.”
The voice paused, letting the weight of the words sink in before continuing.
“The Navi-Path has been mapped out for you. Follow it closely. It's the door signs. Straying from the path may result in disorientation, loss of communication, and even death. You are on your own out there, but we expect nothing less than full compliance. Remember: your mission is the priority. All other considerations are secondary.”
The transmission ended abruptly, leaving you alone once again in the oppressive silence of the dock. The weight of their words hung heavy in the air, the enormity of your task settling in. You adjusted the belt strapped around your waist, securing the small pouches that held the few tools you’d been given—some basic equipment, the small syringe for “emergency” use, and the USB stick that would prove vital to your mission.
Steeling yourself, you moved toward the exit, your path uncertain but driven by necessity. The first room beyond the dock was a wide, cavernous space, lit only by a few dimly lights that barely cut through the darkness. The walls were lined with more shelves, some of which had toppled over, spilling their contents onto the floor. Papers, tools, and unidentifiable scraps of metal were strewn everywhere, evidence of some past chaos.
You stepped carefully around the debris, your eyes scanning the room for anything useful. You found a few more documents, some partially legible, others completely ruined by time and moisture. Most were mundane—logs of inventory, maintenance records—but you stuffed a few into your pouch, just in case.
As you moved deeper into the room, your flashlight beam landed on a closed file cabinet in the corner. You approached it cautiously, the handle cold and slightly rusted under your gloved hand. With a bit of effort, you managed to pry it open. Inside, you found a stack of neatly organized files, most of them still in decent condition. You quickly flipped through them, noting the keywords: “Expedition Logs,” “Resource Acquisition,” “Subject Analysis.” These were the assets you were here for. You stuffed as many as you could into your pouch, the weight pressing against your side as you continued your search.
The next room was larger, with a vaulted ceiling that made the space feel even more ominous. Large machines sat dormant along the walls, their purposes unknown but their sheer size intimidating. The sound of dripping water echoed through the chamber, each drop amplified in the silence.
As you moved cautiously through the room, you spotted another item of interest—a small metal case half-hidden under one of the machines. You pulled it out and carefully opened it, revealing a series of USB sticks neatly lined up inside. Each was labeled with codes similar to the ones on the files you’d found. You didn’t know what they contained, but they were clearly important. You took the entire case, securing it in one of your larger pouches.
Suddenly, the lights flickered, sending a jolt of fear through you. You blinked, trying to shake off the unease. The facility was old, after all, and flickering lights were just another sign of its decay—nothing to worry about. At least, that’s what you tried to convince yourself, brushing off the creeping dread that began to settle in.
But then, the sound hit you—an ear-piercing, bone-chilling scream that reverberated through the walls, freezing you in place. It wasn’t human, not by any stretch of the imagination. The sound clawed at your nerves, each second amplifying the terror gnawing at your gut.
Before you could even process what was happening, a massive black cloud of smoke burst into the room, swirling with unnatural speed and intensity. The sight of it sent your mind into a frenzy. This was no ordinary malfunction. Panic gripped you like a vice, your instincts screaming at you to run, to hide, to do anything to escape whatever horror was hurtling toward you.
Without thinking, you bolted toward the nearest hiding spot—an open locker tucked away in the corner of the room. You flung yourself inside, pulling the door shut just as the cloud surged closer, filling the room with darkness and a suffocating sense of dread. You held your breath, heart pounding in your chest as you tried to stay as still and quiet as possible.
Inside the cramped locker, you could hear the creature—or whatever it was—moving through the room, the sounds it made more akin to a swarm than a single entity. It hissed and crackled, its presence oppressive, as if the very air was being sucked out of the space. You could feel the vibrations of its movements through the metal walls of the locker, each shift causing you to tense up even more.
Time seemed to stretch out, every second an agonizing eternity as you waited, hoping that the creature would pass you by. Your mind raced with a thousand thoughts, none of them comforting. What was that thing? Why was it here? And, most terrifying of all—would it find you?
You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to quiet your breathing, hoping against hope that the locker would be enough to shield you from whatever nightmare had been unleashed in this forsaken place.
The giant monster rushed past as quickly as it had appeared, leaving you trembling in the confines of the locker. Your chest heaved, desperate for air, but it felt like no oxygen was reaching your lungs. Panic gripped you tightly, each breath coming out as a shallow gasp. Your thoughts spiraled, the terror of what you’d just witnessed crashing over you in waves.
Your hands shook uncontrollably as you fumbled with the helmet of your diving suit, the need to get it off suddenly overwhelming. The locker felt suffocatingly small, the walls pressing in on you from all sides. You could feel the cold metal against your back, your fingers finally finding the latch on the helmet. With a frantic jerk, you ripped it off your head, letting it fall with a clatter inside the cramped space.
Gasping, you sucked in the stale, metallic-tasting air of the locker, but it wasn’t enough. Your heart pounded furiously in your chest, the sound of your own pulse deafening in your ears. It felt like the walls were closing in, squeezing the breath out of your lungs. No matter how much air you took in, it wasn’t enough to calm the storm raging inside you.
Your vision blurred as tears welled up in your eyes, your mind replaying the sight of that monstrous cloud over and over again. The sheer horror of it, the way it had filled the room with darkness and dread, it was too much to handle. You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to force the images out of your head, but they wouldn’t go away. The locker felt like a cage, trapping you with your fear, and your thoughts spiraled further out of control.
Your breaths came faster and faster, each one shallower than the last. You tried to steady yourself, to get a grip, but your body wouldn’t listen. You felt like you were drowning in your own panic, every nerve in your body screaming for escape, but there was nowhere to go. The fear had taken over completely, locking you in a vice grip of terror.
For what felt like an eternity, you sat there, struggling to breathe, your body shaking with the intensity of the panic attack. Eventually, the sheer exhaustion began to slow your frantic breaths, but the fear still lingered, clawing at the edges of your mind. You knew you couldn’t stay in the locker forever, but the thought of stepping back out into the darkness, where that thing might still be lurking, was almost too much to bear.
But you also knew you couldn’t stay in this state, trapped in a locker, paralyzed by fear. You forced yourself to take deeper breaths, to focus on the sound of your breathing, the feel of the cold air filling your lungs.
In the end, you couldn’t stay in the locker any longer. The walls felt like they were closing in on you, suffocating you with your own fear. With shaky breaths, you finally gathered the courage to push open the door and step out into the dark, disorienting space. The room was eerily silent, the absence of light making it impossible to see where you were going. You hesitated, trying to get your bearings without crashing into any furniture or walls.
Then it hit you—you had a flashlight. Relief mingled with your lingering panic as you remembered. Quickly, you fumbled for it, plucking it from your belt and flipping it on. The beam cut through the darkness, revealing the room around you. The light danced over scattered documents, overturned furniture, and
 a strange, human-shaped hole in the wall.
You blinked, trying to make sense of it. The edges of the hole were jagged, as if something had forced its way out of the wall. Unease prickled at the back of your neck as you stepped closer, the flashlight’s beam trembling in your hand. You leaned in to get a better look, your mind racing with possibilities, none of them good.
Suddenly, a soft, almost imperceptible sound echoed through the hall—a faint shuffling, like something dragging across the floor. You froze, the hairs on the back of your neck standing up. The sound was close, too close, and it sent a chill down your spine.
You swung the flashlight around, its beam sweeping over the room, desperately searching for the source of the noise. The light caught movement—just a flicker at the edge of the beam, but enough to send your heart racing.
Your breath hitched as you slowly turned toward the direction of the movement. Your flashlight illuminated a figure emerging from the wall itself, its form eerily human but distorted in unsettling ways. The Wall Dweller moved silently, its dark, gaunt shape blending seamlessly with the shadows. It was halfway out of the wall, its empty eyes locked on you with a chilling intensity.
For a moment, you were paralyzed by fear, your body refusing to respond as the Wall Dweller slithered free from the wall. But as the flashlight beam lingered on it, something unexpected happened—the creature froze. Its body stood still against the light, and for a brief second, it seemed almost uncertain.
Then, with a sudden, jerky motion, the Wall Dweller recoiled. It shifted back, retreating toward the open door you came from as if the light had unnerved it. You watched in shock as the creature sprinted back through the hallway, its gaunt figure slipping away into the darkness from which you came. The shuffling sound faded as quickly as it had begun, leaving you alone in the quiet room once more.
You stood there, heart pounding in your chest, flashlight still pointed at the now-empty wall. The encounter had left you rattled, but relief washed over you as you realized the Wall Dweller had fled, seemingly more afraid of you—or perhaps of the light—than you were of it.
Slowly, you lowered the flashlight, trying to steady your breath. The room was silent again, but the tension in the air had lessened. Whatever that thing was, it was gone now.
You took a moment to steady yourself, the flashlight still clutched tightly in your hand. The room was quiet, the Wall Dweller gone, but your nerves were frayed. You couldn’t afford to stay here any longer, not with the darkness pressing in and the uncertainty of what might be lurking nearby. You needed to keep moving.
Cautiously, you stepped out of the room and into the hallway, the beam of your flashlight leading the way. The hall stretched out before you, lined with doors that seemed to go on forever. You chose one at random, the door creaking open as you pushed it with trembling hands. The room beyond was an office, eerily quiet and dimly lit by the emergency lights flickering weakly overhead.
You scanned the room, your eyes falling on several desks cluttered with papers and office supplies. You knew what you were here for—files, documents, anything that might be of value or contain information. Your heart was still racing, but you forced yourself to move forward, sweeping the flashlight over the desks and shelves.
As you approached the nearest desk, you noticed a stack of files haphazardly piled on top. Quickly, you started rifling through them, your eyes scanning the labels and dates. Some of them seemed important, so you grabbed what you could, shoving the files into the small pouch at your waist. The rest of the room yielded more documents, USB sticks, and other bits of data that you added to your growing collection.
The more you found, the more you realized how vital this information might be. But as you continued to search, the lights above you flickered, sending a jolt of fear straight through your chest. You froze, staring at the ceiling as the light stuttered again, threatening to plunge you into darkness.
Panic gripped you. The memory of the Wall Dweller was still fresh in your mind, and the thought of being caught in the dark again was unbearable. Your breath quickened, the room suddenly feeling far too exposed, too open. You needed to get out, and fast.
There was no locker here, nowhere to hide. You glanced around frantically, searching for another exit, another room—anywhere that might offer safety. The lights flickered once more, this time staying off for a fraction too long. It was enough to make your decision.
Without thinking, you bolted from the office, your footsteps echoing loudly in the deserted hallway. You didn't care about the noise, didn't care about anything except getting to a place where you could hide. The hallway seemed endless, but you pushed yourself forward, heart hammering in your chest.
Finally, you spotted another door ahead, slightly ajar. You sprinted towards it, not slowing down until you reached it. Your hand shot out, wrenching the door open as you stumbled inside, slamming it shut behind you.
Panting heavily, you leaned against the door, trying to catch your breath. The room was dark, save for the faint glow of your flashlight, but it felt safer—more enclosed. You aimed the beam around, revealing another small office. This one was more cramped, with just enough space to move around.
Relief washed over you as you noticed a locker in the corner, its metal surface gleaming dully in the light. You wasted no time, crossing the room and throwing open the locker door. It was empty, just big enough for you to fit inside. You clambered in, pulling the door shut behind you as you crouched down, trying to quiet your breathing.
The darkness of the locker felt strangely comforting now, a shield against the unknown. You hugged your knees to your chest, listening intently for any sound outside. But there was nothing—just the pounding of your own heart and the faint hum of the building’s dying lights.
And then a heavy force rushed into the room before smashing itself against the metallic locker, the force pressing a dent into the double doors, making you scream as your space went smaller and smaller. You pushed your shaking legs against the doors with full force, keeping the dent and the monster from squishing you to death but whatever the creature was, wouldn't stop and rammed more against the poor locker that would soon give up.
Your heart pounded in your chest as the relentless force continued to crash against the locker, each impact louder and more violent than the last. The cold metal bent inward with every strike, the sound of creaking steel and the screech of the creature echoing in your ears. The small space grew unbearably tight, the walls closing in as you pushed back with all your might, your legs trembling under the strain. Fear clawed at your throat as you realized the locker wouldn't hold much longer. Desperation surged through you as you searched frantically for any possible escape, knowing that the next impact could be your last.
The relentless assault finally ceased, leaving an eerie silence in its wake. You gasped for breath, your body trembling from the strain and adrenaline. The creature had retreated, its monstrous presence fading into the distance. The metal locker, now warped and twisted, barely provided any protection, but it was over.
Your legs were numb, a dull ache spreading through your entire body. Bruises throbbed on your skin where the locker had pressed into you, and the terror of the encounter left you drained, every ounce of energy spent. As the adrenaline ebbed away, the pain intensified, overwhelming your senses.
With a final, weak breath, your vision blurred, and you slipped into unconsciousness, your body slumped behind the battered double doors.
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82mitsu · 6 months ago
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Previously translated pair names that had been posted to Twitter. However corrections had to be made (misinterpretations & an instance of mistranslation), so this is version 2.
Note: This is the only translated thing I will be posting, I am not off hiatus. I had been meaning to archive this before my hiatus, but I also had to fix some things, which is why there was a delay.
Please consult to this post only regarding pair name translations done by me (82mitsu), any other posts or reposts you might see of this chart is the older version. (Previous version has been deleted, but I'm unaware how far the information had spread.)
If any other corrections need to be made, feel free to contact me and I'll make them as soon as possible.
Below follows an extreme lengthy TL note breaking down some pair names, it's a lot of text, so be warned once you unfold the read more.
A lot of research went into these due to 18TRIPs tendency to mix up words, use Gen-Z slang that hasn’t been picked up by everyone yet (or limited to TikTok) and make up their own words (“Omotenashisto” -> “Hospitalister”). I used dictionaries, searched forum results, looked up how people use these words on social media, went TikTok digging, etc.
I tried my best to localize in a way that should make sense even without added context. I only explained the ones that I thought might needed some more back-up in a cultural sense or because it was a specific JPN thing. Thus, not everything has been explained. However, I hope things are clearer compared to the first version that was posted. For Renga & Yukikaze: For ăœă‚†ăœă‚† (poyupoyu) there is no definition or anything for this word, but from context clues and digging through how people used it, I deduced that it means something soft and squishy like a plushie or cheeks, so to say. For Renga & Liguang: かりそめぼ漿羁 (karisome no shukuen) is a Japanese saying about a fated connection of bond that only lasts for a brief moment, but leaves a deep impact on your life. For Renga & Raito: Party is mispelled in the katakana as “paachii” and not the usual “paatii”. Renga has a tendecy to say English words wrong. While “friends” is spelled the correct way, both words have been “mispelled” to drive the point home. For Renga & Kinari: ăȘぁぜăȘぁぜ (naaze, naaze) is JPN Gen-Z slang from Tiktok. It’s a statement made as an act for complaining, with a bit of sarcasm and irony thrown in at times. Like, “I said I wanna diet but I ate a big meal anyway! ăȘぁぜăȘぁぜ” or “I’m an idol but I get more anxious doing improv than performances! ăȘぁぜăȘぁぜ”. Best way I can describe the usage in this context is Renga is throwing a bit of a self-aware tantrum as to why Kinari would correct him. (As mentioned earlier, he isn’t good at English). I guessed a close equivalent would be “nuh-uh”, since that is a dismissal of someone else’s opinion without actual good reason, even if the other person has a point. For Renga & Netaro: ăŸă‚“ăŸă‚“ (manman) means “a lot” but I also believe it’s a reference to meatbuns (nikuman). For Kafka & Yodaka: Hanbei is Takenaka Shigeharu, a Japanese samurai from the Sengoku era. He was known for being Toyotomi Hideyoshi’s strategist. For Liguang & Yodaka: 闘牌䌝 (touhaiden) is related to Mahjong stuff. 闘牌䌝 seems to be an old timey Mahjong video game with RPG elements. Rekka is a fighting game term, and I will quote the website The Fighting Game Glossary by Infil on this: “A type of special move that has multiple stages, as long as you input more commands to continue the sequence. Not all multi-part specials can be called rekkas though; a rekka tends to have exactly three distinct parts and will move your character forward along the ground with each new input.”  For Akuta & Nanaki: They went to the same kindergarten and were grouped together in the “Oden Class”. Japanese kindergartens, from my understanding from researching, tend to have a name for their class, rather than a number. To give an idea what such names could be, in 2019 the website hyenasclubs hosted a poll of most commonly used names for classes, and the top 3 were “baby chick” (hiyoko), “peach” (momo) and “dandelion” (tanpopo). For Akuta & Muneuji: My take on ăŻăŁă‘ă‚ˆă„èŒçŸąéƒšć±‹ (hakkeyoi kaguya heya) is a bit of an elaborate bit joking with Princess Kaguya of the Moon (from Tale of the Bamboo Cutter) because I was wondering why they suddenly opted for Muneuji’s last name instead of first. (I might’ve also just overestimated Kaguya Heya being some joke on Kaguya Hime). Hakkeyoi is what a referee shouts at the start of a sumo wrestling match. For Akuta & Ushio: I think ăƒă‚žăƒ†ă‚Łăƒ–ă«è…•æŠŒă— (positive ni ude oshi) is a take on æš–ç°Ÿă«è…•æŠŒă— (noren ni ude oshi) that means something has no effect or is pointless. Lit. it means “pushing a curtain with one's arm”.    For Akuta & Tao: Akuta Nine is a joke on the baseball movie Gyakkyo Nine which is an adaptation of the manga of the same series, I believe. The movie is referred to as GK9, hence I made it AKT9.  For Akuta & Ryui: The original is OYAxKOBU which comes from èŠȘ戆歐戆 (oyabunkobun) meaning “boss and his underlings”. Akuta also calls Ryui by “Oyabun”.
For Kiroku & Nanaki: Weebs who watch highschool anime should be familiar with this, but emergency staircase refers to the hallway stairs in a JPN highschool that are sometimes used as chilling out spots by students. For Kiroku & Chihiro: TuRyStA is the clothing brand they wear. 18TRIP has a various selection of clothing brands, which each character having a preference for one or another. For Kiroku & Yodaka: Zhao Yun, as quoted by Wikipedia, “was a military general who lived during the late Eastern Han dynasty and early Three Kingdoms period of China.” For Ushio & Raito: Some heavy freedom was taken with バă‚čボムしゅわăƒȘă‚čト (basubamu shuwaristo). After considering how to approach it in the most sensical way, I decided to translate it as “bubblist” due the other options being “hand sign list” or “bubble list”. I thought ăƒȘă‚čト might function as in -ist, like dentist, artist, guitarist. しゅわ comes from しゅわしゅわ which means bubbly. Although bubblist isn’t not that common, it is sometimes referred to entertainers that do bubble performances (in English). And I think it made more sense than “hand sign list” or “bubble list” to say the least. This was also taking in consideration how 18TRIP, as explained in the intro, gets very creative with its language usage. For Raito & Nagi: Mandarin ducks symbolize “soulmates” of some kind in China. In other words, Mandarin Duck Touring is more along the lines of “Motorcycle touring soulmates”. However, I find the mandarin duck reference and interesting pull compared to just “soulmates”, so it was kept as is. For Kinari & Ryui: “Super Darling Gap Inspection” is more along the original lines. “Gap” in Japanese is usually used in the context of when someone acts one way, but unexpectedly, can act a different way. Ex. A very shy person shows they can be super vulgar, that can be considered a “gap” of some kind. In English, people are more familiar with “gap moe”, thus gap moe was used. For Tao & Nagi: Might be a reference to Yokohama’s Zo-no-hana (Elephant Nose) Park. For Toi & Yodaka: The original is more along the lines of, in the most literal sense, “going around raisins circle (of friends).” Toi likes raisins, but Yodaka doesn’t, so Yodaka passes them onto Toi. I’ve turned into on a play on “sharing is caring” since that’s a common concept in English.
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a-killer-obsession · 5 months ago
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Hello!! I'd absolutely love to see an AFAB Z Reader with a little bit of P! As for that character, I think I'd have to choose the wonderful number 4. Thank you!
sorry everyone for the long gap between event fics, i promise i'm still working on them!
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Milk
Prompt: Mink Reader + Pollen Additional Tags: afab reader, she/her pronouns, light somnophilia, masturbation, face fucking, forced orgasm, breeding kink, oral (receiving and giving), p in v sex, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, aftercare WC: 3.8
Event Masterlist
🔞 Minors DNI 🔞
The island the Victoria Punk was anchored at was supposed to be uninhabited, and as such only a small team had disembarked to scout it out. It was supposed to be uneventful, but you'd stayed back from the scouting team anyway. As the doctor on the ship it wasn't a good idea to put you in any sort of harm's way, especially since you weren't much of a fighter. As a cow mink you were heavy set and slow, on the chubbier side, thought you had a lot of muscle underneath it. You could body a punch, and certainly reply with your own, but you weren't agile or well seasoned like the others. You had a good sense of smell and hearing which helped you stay out of fights, but usually if it came down to it you knew you could rely on the boys to keep you safe, just like they could always rely on you to patch them up.
The scouting team had the job of checking the island was safe from any sort of large dangerous predators before the crew could make use of harvesting any natural resources, so you were waiting patiently along with most of the crew, reading a book as you lounged with Killer on the skull deck, using each other's backs to prop each other up. Your ear twitched as it picked up movement, head perking up at the same time as Killer's haki alerted him to the incoming scouting party. Killer had been facing the island, and you held his shoulders steady so he wouldn't fall backwards as you took away his back rest, turning yourself to peer over his shoulder. The two of you watch with rising alarm as the scouting party breaks from the treeline, Heat running at the front of the group with Wire draped over his shoulder. Both of you are on your feet immediately, Killer rushing to help Heat on board while you run to prepare the infirmary for their arrival.
Your rubber gloves are on as Killer opens the door for Heat, Wire immediately deposited carefully on the closest bed, unconscious and dripping with sweat, his face flushed with fever. You touch the back of your hand to his forehead and immediately recoil at how hot his skin is, quickly setting about getting an IV line of fluids set up to account for the water he was losing through sweat.
“What happened?” You ask Heat as you work, your voice dependable and steady despite everyone else’s panic. Killer had shooed the rest of the crew out of the tight space, Kid appearing past the crowd at the commotion and furrowing his brows as he finds one of his commanders and long time friends unconscious and suffering some unknown ailment.
“It was some sort of flower,” Heat explained, “it came out of nowhere, swung down and smacked him right in the face like it was sentient. There was a puff of pollen or something and he went down”
“Must have been some sort of defense mechanism,” Killer noted, “Heat, tell the others to keep off the island”
“We'll set sail as soon as the pose resets,” Kid added, “have the ship ready to move as soon as it's ready, Wire said it'd take less than a day. I want away from this fucked up island”
“Roger that, Boss,” Heat replied, giving Wire one last forlorn look before leaving to pass along the orders, despite very much not wanting to leave his best friend’s side right now.
“How is he?” Kid asked you, he and Killer now standing on the other side of the cot from you as you worked, checking Wire's vitals and making hasty notes on a clipboard.
“He has a nasty fever,” you replied, “but there doesn't seem to be anything else wrong, no rashes or hives that might indicate this was an allergic reaction, his airway seems clear, he seems mostly fine. Whatever that pollen was has just caused a fever but I won't know the full extent of the damage till he wakes up. For now I think we just need to let him rest and hope the fever breaks soon”
And so let him rest they did. Kid carried Wire back to his own room where you felt he would be more comfortable, and you stayed at his side, dabbing his forehead with wet cloths and rechecking his vitals hourly. While he didn't seem to be getting any better or worse, at some point he started groaning in his sleep, followed by you noticing a visible tent in his leather shorts. That got you concerned, you had heard of flowers that released powerful aphrodisiacs for the purposes of increasing population numbers, but you'd never encountered them yourself. The symptoms matched what you'd heard though, so with that in mind you instructed the others to stay away from his room, under the guise of him being possibly contagious, but really just not wanting Wire to be seen in such a vulnerable state. It was fine for you, you were his doctor, it was all just natural processes, but you had a feeling he wouldn't want his friends seeing him pitching a (very large) tent in his sleep.
That brought up another problem though: what happened when he woke up? You wouldn't deny you had an attraction to Wire, but would it be taking advantage of him to offer yourself up to alleviate his symptoms? You were a doctor after all, it was all for the good of his health, right? Unsure of where you stood on that moral dilemma, you settled yourself into an armchair in the corner of Wire's room to rest, mulling over the pros and cons while you eyed his sweating body as he groaned and clawed at the sheets in his sleep. Perhaps it wouldn't even come to that, after all; Wire was a large man, and the pollen was likely designed for generic wild animals much smaller than him, perhaps the effects would wear off before he even woke up. Mind swimming with questions, you didn't even notice as you started to nod off, falling asleep in the armchair to the sound of Wire's heavy breathing.
⋆★⋆★⋆★⋆★⋆
The heavy breathing was much closer when you woke up, ears twitching at the panting in front of you and nose catching the scent of masculine musk and precum not far from your face. Your eyes fluttered open, drowsy from your impromptu nap, immediately going wide as you took in the sight before you. Wire was entirely naked, dark tan skin glistening with sweat as he fisted himself furiously right in front of you. He hadn't noticed you waking yet, concentrating too hard on your chest, which you realised was mostly exposed, your shirt having been unbuttoned halfway in your sleep revealing your lace trimmed bra and ample cleavage. You should have felt violated by the situation, any sane woman would, but instead you found yourself rubbing your thighs together in need, unbearably turned on by the tall man taking advantage of you in your vulnerable sleeping state. You were well aware how fucked up that was, but you couldn’t help get horny at it, somnophilia was certainly a kink you indulged in. You looked up at him and watched his expression change to fear as he noticed you were awake, but he never stopped pumping his impressive cock, one of his hands resting on the back of your chair as he loomed over you.
“I- I can't stop- I'm sorry,” he groaned, risking coming closer now that he was already caught, resting a knee on one of the arms of the chair. His cock was so very close to your face, so you did the only logical thing you could think of; you opened your mouth and lolled out your long, rough tongue, using your hands to free your tits from your bra and holding them together, inviting him to cum on you. He made a confused whimper at the action, having expected backlash, and eyed your breasts hungrily, seeing now your pretty pink nipples and the full curve of your massive tits.
“Well?” You purred, “are you going to give me your milk or not?”
That finally set him over the edge, pushing his cock into your offered mouth and grabbing your short horns, setting a brutal pace as he fucked your face. You were glad for your long snout, allowing you to take far more of him than a human could before his impressive length hit the back of your throat. You also had barely any gag reflex thanks to your mink anatomy, so you had no issue with his rough treatment of your mouth, arousal pooling between your legs as he used you. You were used to being used roughly like this, no vanilla man ever slept with a mink, only those with kinks that you’d found yourself enjoying more and more as you experimented with humans. You were well aware of the strange appeal you held for some humans, with your animal-like face, long tongue, ample tits that alluded to an udder, and your cute tail that usually sprouted from under your skirt, lifting the hem oh so slightly. They were charms you took full advantage of; despite your sweet, innocent, bovine face you knew you loved it when men used you, and you knew you loved taking control as well, usually being much stronger and heavier than your lovers.
It didn't take long before you heard Wire groan and felt hot, thick liquid sliding down your throat, but this time it was your turn to be in control. He tried to pull his cock from your mouth (notably still hard, though you would have refused to let him go regardless) but you sunk your hands into the flesh of his ass, holding him still, your wide nose pressed against his pubic hair as you looked up at him with mischievous eyes. Men who came to you for sex often made references to milk, so naturally the act of milking a man had become something you had come to love, dominating your lovers regularly, enthralled by the act of forcing humans to give you their seed against your mink instincts to only breed with your own kind. You adored overstimulating your lovers, you loved to watch them squirm, hearing them beg for mercy only to force another orgasm from them, it was your favourite. And with the pollen not letting him settle, it was all the sweeter. He tried to pull your head away but you were an immovable object, relishing his overstimulated whines as you lolled out your long tongue and let it flick against his balls while you literally suckled on his cock. His hands went from trying to pull you off to holding you against him, letting out a string of curses as you groped his ass and sucked the life out of him, forcing another orgasm from him. Not till you had every last drop of his cum did you let him go with a pop, licking your lips and giving him an innocent look as he panted and held your horns for support.
“M-more,” he groaned, almost doubling over on himself as you started to pump his still swollen cock. You wondered how many times he would have to finish before the pollen would clear from his system, how many times could he breed you before it was done with him? The thought made your thighs rub together. Naughty mink, breeding with a human, you thought to yourself, a thought that often got you hot and bothered. You wanted him to breed you, you wanted him to pump you full of cum till it had nowhere to go and dripped from your abused cunt.
His head tilted and his eyes fluttered closed, nose moving like he was taking in a scent in the air, a shiver running through him as he smelt your arousal. You wondered to what extent the pollen truly affected him, were his senses elevated too? Or only in ways that allowed him to find a mate? You didn't have much time to think on it before he was on his knees, having to bend considerably to account for his height so he could lick and suck at your thighs, pulling your knees up and pushing them to rest over the arms of the chair as he blindly sought out the source of the sweet alluring smell. He pushed up your skirt and pressed his nose right against your damp panties, butting against your clit and making you moan, as he let out his own groans at your scent.
“Fuck, you smell so good. Want you-” was all he could manage to get out as his hands ran along your thighs and pulled at your panties, “want, want-” It was like his mind had been turned to mush, all he could think about of vocalise were basic needs, and right now he needed to taste you, it was all he could think about.
He tore the fabric from your body and you both moaned as his tongue made contact, licking long stripes up your cunt, not with the aim of pleasuring you but with the aim of tasting you, gathering your slick on his tongue and drinking it down like he needed it to live. Each swipe grazed over your clit and made you jolt, your hand burying in his short hair as he lapped at you, growing annoyed as your honey was replaced with his saliva. “More!” He growled, bullying his tongue inside you to get to the source, making a satisfied hum as he did so, deaf to your pleasured moans as he drank from you. He wasn’t actively trying to make you feel good, only selfishly trying to gather all your essence, but his ministrations and groans against your sensitive flesh felt so fucking good, and soon you were pulling on his short hair and riding out your high against his face, his tongue working overtime to gather every drop that gushed from you.
His eyes were practically black as he looked up at you, unnaturally blown wide by the pollen, his need for you insatiable but at least his thirst for your honey had been quenched. His tongue ran up your body, rolling over your soft tummy and leaving a wet trail of saliva behind as he travelled to your breasts, yanking your bra down further and sucking one tit into his mouth as his large hand groped the other. He suckled at the nipple and made a disappointed whine. “What, did you expect there to be milk? Because I’m a cow mink?” you huffed, pulling his hair hard to remove him from your breast. He gave you a look that was entirely unapologetic. It wasn’t the first time a man had expected you to be lactating, it was a little offensive to be honest. “Only cows that have calved have milk, dumbass. You ever seen me running around with a baby on my arm? Tsk”
“I’ll have to put a calf in you then,” he decided, his sultry voice making your pussy clench around nothing as he raised himself higher, his face now a hair’s width away from yours. His eyes ran down your entire body, your hair messy, your cheek wet with tears from deepthroating, your clothes pulled out of place to expose your breasts and pussy, your legs still hooked over the arms of the chair to spread you wide for him. His index finger played with your pussy, pushing your slick and his saliva around before the digit slid inside you, followed by a second. He watched you closely as he began to pump your cunt slowly, expecting you to start moaning, but you only huffed in annoyance at him, which made him raise a brow.
“You gonna breed me or what then, Wire?” you asked him, and his dick throbbed at the thought. Quickly he removed his fingers from you, pumping his cock a few times to spread your slick over his member before lining the fat head up with your entrance. You were ill prepared for his girth, but you were the one who asked for it. You both groaned in unison as he sunk inside you, stretching you wide as you clawed at his back. Your tongue came out to lick at his lips, and he sucked it into his mouth, your long appendage filling it. He could feel it at the back of his throat as your tongue explored, making his eyes roll back as he began a vicious pace with the intent of pumping you full of as much cum as possible.
“Ah, just like that, fuck,” you whined, enjoying the way his massive cock filled you so well, pulling against every inch of your inner walls, rubbing right where you wanted him without even trying. “Put a fucking baby in me, Wire, fuck me till I’m fat with your calf”
“Fuck, fuck,” he groaned, “I’ll give you what you want sweet heifer, I’ll make you a mother”
His mind was heavy with lust and his judgement cloudy from the pollen as he fucked you hard and fast. He came quickly at the feeling of your hot wet walls around him, but he didn’t stop for even a moment, the pollen not letting him. The overstimulation was driving him insane, your walls clenching around him as you cooed your praises and begged him to fuck a baby into you, gushing over his cock once, twice, a third time, his pace never once letting up. Sweat dripped from his body and made you sticky, your own sweat soaking the bunched up clothes around your waist, your tits and tummy bouncing with every hard thrust he gave you. Your cunt was milking him for everything he had, Wire groaning against your shoulder as he came again, the pollen still not letting go of the tight hold it had on him. It was starting to hurt, his cock throbbed painfully from the insistent erection. Including before you’d woken, he’d cum a total of five times, and the blood still refused to drain from his cock. Groans turned to pained moans as he struggled to find the energy to keep up with his body’s needs, pistoning into you desperately. You saw the pained look in his eyes, and realised something wasn’t right.
“Wire, shh, it’s okay baby,” you cooed, “you want me to take over?”
He whined and nodded in defeat, using the last of his strength to carry you both to the bed, his hips still moving on their own accord like he truly couldn’t stop as he laid himself down with you on top of him. You stroked his face soothingly and made hushed assurances as you took over the movements, riding him hard and fast, his fingers digging into your hips. He shamelessly watched and enjoyed the way your tits bounced, reaching up to grope at them and letting out strings of curses as you purposely clamped down around his cock, trying to spur on his orgasm. It was no longer about getting yourself off, you recognised that he was hurting and he needed this to be over, so you were doing everything you could to get him to finish in the hopes the pollen would finally let go of him, otherwise you might have to consider medical intervention. His body wasn’t going to be able to handle much more, he’d already lost so much sweat and fluids, and his cock felt raw from overuse, he needed this to be over.
“Come on baby, give it to me,” you purred, hoping dirty words would put him over the edge, “give me all your cum so I can get fat with your calf and you can milk my tits whenever you want”
“Ah~ hurts- hurts-” Wire cried, treating your tits like stress balls as he tried and failed to let himself go. “Can’t- gotta cum- can’t-”
“It’s okay Wire, let go,” you cooed, tweaking his nipples to try and give him extra stimulation.
“Hmmph-” he groaned as you tugged on his pert buds, his hands coming down to grab your waist as he suddenly began to piston up into you, “fuck fuck fuck, just like that, just like that”
“Cum for me Wire,” you moaned, “breed me, hnng, gonna cum too”
“Yes, yes, cum for me,” he growled, using a thumb to rub your clit furiously and groaning as he ripped another orgasm from you, your release dripping over his abdomen, surprising you that you even had anything left to give. “Ah, good girl, good girl,” he groaned, “so tight, so good, cumming, fuck, cumming”
He held you down by your hips so your cunt was flush with his front, his cock balls deep inside you and stretching you out as he whined and creamed once more, cum spilling out from where you were connected as his body shook underneath you. “There you go baby, there you go,” you purred, Wire’s entire body going slack as he let go, panting hard as he laid against the bed. You pulled off his finally softening cock slowly, the movement making him whine in pain. His cock was red and sore, and you felt so sorry for him. Sure, it’d been fun, and you were more than satisfied, but at what cost? You carefully pressed the back of your hand to his forehead, Wire looking at you through a half-lidded, confused gaze as you checked his temperature and found that his fever had finally broken.
You winced as you slid off the bed, trying your best to right your clothes so you could pour him some water and bring the cup to him. He noticed your slight limp and looked unbelievably guilty as you helped him sit up so you could guide him to drink. “Did I hurt you?” he asked, holding your wrist carefully in his long fingers.
“You’re just big, sweetheart,” you cooed, “i’ll be okay, are you feeling alright though? The pollen did quite the number on you”
“I didn’t- I didn’t mean to,” he pleaded, “I’m sorry”
“Its okay Wire, really,” you ran your thumb over his cheek, tracing the pointed sideburn, “you needed help, I was more than happy to provide it”
Finally convinced that it was okay, he let you guide the glass to his mouth and allow him to drink, emptying the glass eagerly before you helped him lay back down. You took one of the damp cloths you’d been easing his fever with and cleaned him carefully, finding him already asleep by the time you finished. You cleaned yourself up next, stripping off your dirtied clothes and climbing into the bed beside him. He stirred for only a moment to wrap his arms around you, before you fell to exhaustion as well, tucked into his chest as he held you protectively.
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ipegchangbin · 10 months ago
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lol z look at what chan sent on bubble!!! just can’t stop thinking about shy nerdy channie :( i wanna edge him sooooo bad :((
♡ 
 part 2
you know what? im bored and im gonna write smth
đŸ·ïž sub!nerd!chan, dom!gn!reader, edging, phone sex
all he wanted was to call up his crush. he can’t stop shying away from himself, clutching his phone desperately.
it’s on speaker now, your voice — the stunning one he shyly requested over text — commanding his every move, demanding to hold off from satisfying his cock.
“sounds so wet, is your cock all leaky?” you ask, smirk evident even through the phone. and you’re right, his cock is leaking precum all over himself.
chan only humps his hand faster at your teasing. “i-i’m really w-wet,” he moans.
it’s so wet and hard that it’s sinful to listen to. you would’ve mistaken his cock for a cunt from how wet it sounded. the slick of his cock rubbing against his hand was so loud that you could almost taste it. you can only imagine the glistening picture of his dick with the brightest smile in your face.
but why keep imagining when you can ask to see it?
“turn on your video, chan.”
chan almost hesitated; he stops and stares at his phone with wide eyes, blinking twice before your voice speaks up again.
“i said, turn on your video. i want to see you.”
intimidated, chan angles his phone upwards and presses the video call button, exposing his whole body to you through the screen.
even with all the pixels, you see him in all his glory: he’s wearing thick rimmed glasses, hair tussled in its naturally curly state, cheeks and big nose both flushed with color that you’ve only ever seen in person when you smile at him.
your camera isn’t on, and chan pouts but doesn’t complain. he’s too shy to. or, he’s too scared to ruin your teasing.
“what a good boy,” you coo, “and may i see your pretty cock?”
chan shyly pulls his phone closer, but you can’t see all of it.
“no, channie. can’t see how good you’re fucking it.”
even at this point, he hasn’t stopped pumping his dick. so when he finally shows you himself, it’s all red and hard and painful. pitiful. chan tries to hide his face by looking at the side, but your laugh brings him back to you.
“look at you! why are you getting shy now? you’re showing me your pretty little dick!”
“b-because
y-you
nevermind
”
you laugh again and his cock twitches terribly bad in his hand. it’s pulsing harshly, the veins along his curve popping like there’s no tomorrow. his balls are extra defined at this state, almost as if he’s about to cum.
“oh, does my channie want to cum?”
chan whines loudly, shame leaving him as he reaches his climax. “i-i n-need to
cum—”
“no, no. won’t let you cum till you speak straight.”
chan gulps and a lump forms in his throat. if he cries, he’s doomed — he stutters more when he’s about to cry. but fuck, you’ve been demanding him over the phone and telling him what to do for what seems like an eternity, and he hasn’t shot up once.
“i-i—ah—i’m—fuck—i need
”
“no. won’t do.”
“i wanna—hah—”
your voice firms itself and you reprimand him. “doing so bad. how can you cum like this, huh? thought you wanted to cum so bad, why can’t you follow something so simple?”
chan blinks and tears fall behind his glasses. he whimpers like a hurt pet, but his hand squeezes around his cock.
“chan, repeat after me,” you command. “channie
”
“channie
”
you can’t help but smile to yourself at how cutely he manages to obey your demands.
“needs to
”
“n-needs—needs to
”
he corrects himself when he stutters. he opts for more squeezing on his cock, holding off from cumming. he can’t finish and you’re going to be strict about it.
“
cum. channie needs to cum.”
“
c-cum—cum. channie needs to cum!”
you hum, feigning uncertainty. chan completely stops playing with his cock in anticipation, and it makes you happy to see his girth twitching with need. his tip looks so frustrated that it could blow. if only you were there to make it worse.
why not make it worse now?
“i’m not sure i’m satisfied with that,” you say matter-of-factly, “keep talking till i’m good with it.”
chan’s face almost turns pale white. his hand finds the tip of his cock and palms it, blocking him from cumming despite the sensitivity. his glasses are foggy from the heavy breathing and whining, tear stains escaping the thick rims and falling down his cheeks.
“channie needs to cum,” he repeats like a mantra. except, he stumbles on every single syllable, growing more and more desperate and weak as he keeps speaking. he doesn’t stop at all though, determined to finish and satisfy you.
except, his cock is about to cry along with him, since this goes on for what seems to be thirty more minutes.
“oh, is channie tired?”
he whimpers so loud that it could be mistaken for a howl. “please, y/n! b-been w-wanting you so, so, so bad! i-i can’t help myself! i want to cum!”
“you do?”
“please!” the desperation washes all over chan as his heart burns, stomach clenches, and cock twitches.
“go faster,” you demand, referring to the hand on his cock.
he goes from palming and squeezing it back to pumping along his full length, going as fast as he possibly can. he fists his cock once, twice, thrice, four times, and he finally—
“stop.”
chan stops with a loud groan. he keeps groaning, pitch getting higher as he hesitates from screaming. chan almost cums, but his release is cut short by your demand, making him silently tear up. his phone is propped up on his side table now as he couldn’t stop shaking while holding it.
“please
’ve been
a good b-boy
so good
”
you laugh and command him to touch himself. go faster. then, as he approaches an orgasm, you tell him to stop again.
another thirty minutes passes by and chan is now so tired, glasses abandoned on a pillow, sweat drenching the sheets, ass up in the air as he’s hunched over his comforter from the pain and held-off pleasure.
“oh poor channie. look at your phone.”
he shoots his head up.
your face finally appears on video, smug smile written across your lips. you angle your camera slowly to reveal your naked body, one that chan had fantasized for the longest time, only to take away and laugh at the camera.
“hi, channie.”
the night’s only just begun, and he’s only halfway through.
381 notes · View notes
43qh · 10 months ago
Note
Can I request a jealous Quinn smut in which the reader is extremely nice yet clueless when she gets hit on by other men. Maybe Quinn sees one approaching her and has had it enough. “Why would they ask me out” “why wouldn’t they”
your wish is my command, darling.
word count: 1.2k
genre: smut
warnings: unprotected sex, kinda rough, jealous sex
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"i'll be right back, don't move." quinn demands, knowing you have a tendency to cluelessly run off. you smile with a nod, staring down at your drink. you stood idly by, waiting for you attentive boyfriend to come back to you.
while waiting, a man seemed to notice you all by yourself. you weren't aware of his presence next to you until he lightly brushed his hand against your shoulder, giving you a bright smile. "hi, what's a girl like you doing all alone?"
you wanted to cringe at the classic line, but instead put on your proudest smile, "oh, i'm not alone."
the man standing next to you looks around, before darting his eyes back to you, "i don't see anyone. you're too pretty to be left by yourself."
his remark makes you smile innocently, "thank you, stranger."
the man chuckles, "my name's trevor, actually. and i would love to get to know your name, and maybe more?" he raised an eyebrow with question.
when you were about to answer, quinn tugs you into his chest with a look of anger dawning his features. "she's taken, z."
you look in confusion, not knowing quinn knew him personally. "oh shit, you're quinn's girl!" he laughs it off, "sorry man, won't happen again."
quinn huffs, sucking in his cheek, "why would he just blatantly ask you out like that?" quinn glares at the back of trevor's head as he walks away.
you pull apart from his possessive link, "why wouldn't he?" you tilt your head in curiosity. it wasn't from a place of poking the bear, it was a genuine question. one that got you in trouble.
quinn huffs in anger again, "we're leaving."
you don't protest, unsure why he was acting this way. you had never really seen quinn this way. sure, he's been jealous before, but it was never anything close to this. the whole entire car ride home was quiet, making you nervously run your hands along the end of your dress as you sat there. quinn seemed serious this time, so you decided to remain silent.
when you entered the home, you turned to ask him what was wrong but stopped dead in your tracks as he glared at you. it was an intense stare, one you definitely haven't seen before. at least not directed towards you.
he strides towards you slowly, eyeing you like a prey, "you're right, you know." he doesn't let you ask what he means before continuing, "why wouldn't someone approach you? especially with those fuckable eyes, that short dress hugging your curves."
you gasped, "i- what?"
quinn smirks, letting out a breathy chuckle, "little innocent you. you think i don't notice the way men eat you up? it's the same way i look at you. i hate it." quinn snarls in a way that makes you swallow hard.
"you know i'm yours, quinn." you try to make peace with the man in front of you.
he smiles toothily, "i know. but i think after tonight, you need a strong reminder."
before you can ask or interject further, he pulls you against you, kissing your lips. he can taste the fruity cocktail on your tongue, and you can taste the faint linger of beer. it wasn't strong, knowing he liked sobering up before leaving the bar. the kiss made you dizzy, almost falling if it weren't for how strong quinn was grasping at your hips.
he bunches up the bottom of your dress, not breaking away from you until you let out a loud gasp at the contact of his fingers against your wet, clothed clit. he smirks, looking down at you.
"already soaked, huh? is that what i do to you? does making me jealous turn you on?" he tilts his head in a mocking manner, causing you to shake your head 'no'. he tsks, "from the way you're dripping, i think you do."
this wasn't like quinn. you had never really set off a jealous spark within him. well, not enough for him to do something about it. tonight, that was certainly going to change.
quinn rushes you to the bedroom, your heels coming off along the way while your dress stayed bundled above your hips. he pushes you down, climbing over you almost immediately. he locks eyes with you, seeing the way you bite your lip in anticipation. you would be lying to yourself if you said didn't like this side of quinn.
"i'm gonna make you beg to cum," he states, pulling down your panties and staring at the way your pussy glistened back at him. he hums, "you seem needy." he smirks, looking back up at you, "good."
he runs his fingers along your soaked core, rubbing soft circles into your clit, not quite giving you the pressure he knew you needed. the room filled with your quiet whimpers of defeat, and his ego boasted.
quinn quickly removed his shirt, pants, and underwear. you gawked at the sight of him. you could never truly get used to it. he was just so gorgeous, and you were one lucky woman.
quinn doesn't waste time in pushing into you, your heat sucking him in and making a groan leave his lips, "so fucking tight and wet."
you whine, gasping for air as you adjusted to his size. he stayed still for a moment too long, "quinn.. please."
quinn kisses your temple, "please what, baby?"
"please move."
he can't deny you, not when you look at him with innocent eyes that send him in a dazed state. your pussy was perfect, made for him. made for his cock. his cock only.
"so greedy," he huffed, groaning when you clench around him. quinn begins to set a fast pace, skin slapping against skin almost outdoing your moans that echoed in your shared bedroom. you go to reach for him, but he pins your hands down with a groan, "you like taking it, don't you? taking this cock."
you clench your fists, gasping and sputtering, his hips becoming relentless and not missing a beat. you were sure you would have bruises on your thighs and around your wrists. quinn moves and traps both your hands with just one of his. his size difference wasn't something he thought much of, but this time he was grateful for it.
quinn moves his free hand down to your hip, fingers bruising into you and making you cry out. "quinn! i- please.."
your words trail off as your eyes roll into the back of your head, the sight making quinn chuckle lowly and out of breath, "please what? you want to cum? already? i've barely even started with you." he lets out a snarl when you clench around him too tightly, making his thrusts falter for just a beat.
"yes, please!" you wail out, tears starting to form as you feel the coil in your stomach starting to burn like wildfire, "please let me cum. make me cum."
"who do you belong to?" he asks, quickening his pace and making you struggle against his strong grip.
"y-you. you, quinn. fuck.." you were so close, doing your best to hold it off just for him. you didn't want to provoke him any further than this.
he hums in amusement, "cum for me. cum on this cock, baby."
the release felt like pure bliss, feeling as quinn lets go of your wrists, letting you grasp onto him as you convulse around him. the orgasm so intense, you barely notice the feeling of his own cum pumping right into you.
heavy breaths filled the air, and quinn is quick to place a soft kiss against your lips, contradictory to how he was just minutes ago. "you're mine." he whispers against your lips. he's met with innocent doe eyes.
"always."
390 notes · View notes
sabotsen · 3 months ago
Text
Afterglow
Pairing: Noan x (gn!) Commandant / Reader
Notes: Set shortly after Noan’s affection story 6; word count 1.3k
Warnings: Subtle possessiveness
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A fluke. 
Fate disguised as a coincidence. 
Isn’t that how it always goes in hero stories? 
A chance encounter that alters the alignment of stars and rewrites destiny for the better, with hope woven into every word and touch. 
But this is not a hero’s story, and fate has never been kind to him. 
It is not a moment of joy, with warm smiles and gentle laughter in the company of friends. It is not a moment of anticipation, spirits soaring high before the oncoming fight. This moment — quiet and peaceful — has been won only after the blood of comrades has stained your hands beyond recognition and their corpses paved the way to the top of this hill upon which you weather every storm. 
But even so

Despite it all, he is grateful. 
How could he not be, with your head on his shoulder? 
Your breathing is slow and steady, his cloak a poor cushion against the hard, unyielding metal of his frame. Yet now and then, you drowsily nuzzle against his shoulder and almost seem to burrow into the worn folds of the fabric before settling once more against him. It’s enough to trigger an itch in his wires, a slow rolling brushfire that sweeps across him — quiet, without flare or noise. More than once he has brushed the hair from your eyes, his fingers curling as they trace a path from behind your ear down along the curve of your jaw. 
Still you do not wake. 
Not when he calls your name or when his touch drifts across your cheek like butterfly wings, a ghost of a touch too delicate to truly be missed. Just how much have you been pushing yourself lately? It hasn’t even been three days since you returned from a month long mission down on the surface and already the shadows beneath your eyes are just as concerningly dark as the first night he kidnapped you to this blind spot in Zone Z. Do you always throw yourself so recklessly into the fray, heedless of your health? 
How does Gray Raven stand it, watching you tear yourself apart like this piece by piece? How does Simon hold his tongue every time your paths cross, despite the endless worries that flow over like rain behind the closed doors of Dark Ares? 
You nuzzle against his shoulder again, a faint furrow in your brow as the blanket draped around your shoulders slides away. Noan cannot help the small smile that pulls at his lips as he adjusts the blanket and dutifully ensures you are properly bundled. His hands hover near your cheek, an itch in his fingertips to brush against your brow and coax that furrow away. 
You trust him — foolishly, kindly — and he still cannot wrap his head around why. It’s such a heavy thing — your trust — and he has long since known cold, metallic hands cannot grasp delicate things forever. 
Would that wake you? 
Would it cross a line somewhere, somehow? 
He settles for lightly brushing the hair from your face, touch far too light and mindful, before his hand drifts down to your hands resting in your lap. Slowly, with all the careful movements of a child reaching for something forbidden in the middle of the night, he cradles your hand in his. Immediately, your warmth sinks into him, gradual and welcoming. 
Your head on his shoulder, your hand cradled in his — a fragile peace lay nestled against him. 
It feels like Spring.
It feels like home.
Delicate, like a folded paper crane. Even the slightest moment could tear and rend everything asunder. The smallest bit of rain could eat away the body. Carefully, so carefully must he act — every word and action mindful and calculating. He can’t lose this — this friend, this trust, this warmth. 
Slowly, he laces your fingers in his, marveling at the softness of your skin against the hard edges of him. You stir in your sleep, fingers curling around his hand and weakly returning his grip. 
“Commandant.” 
Your title is a whisper upon his lips, gentle like flower petals. 
“You’re scowling again.” 
His free hand brushes against your cheek, thumb tenderly swiping just under your eyes as if to wipe away tears. Beneath his light touches, you seem to relax, the faint traces of tension fading from your expression. He feels the subtle shift of your weight as you lean upon him further, like a bird burrowing into a corner of the nest. 
Warmth seeps into him, sinking beneath cold metal and bleeding beyond colored wires. Down, down, down it travels — to a vast white expanse within him, where only snow thrives. It seeps in, like springtime rain, and melts the unending snow. Noan gently tilts his head, lips brushing against the top of yours as he soaks up every bit of your warmth like a sunflower desperate for the sun. 
The empty bridge framed by the black expanse of the stars are the only witness to this moment of weakness. He knows when the timer runs out, this will all be over. He will return you to your Gray Ravens, likely carrying you upon his back much like he did before. He will return to the cafe and slip that shackle back on his wrist once more. 
“Shall we run away again?” You had asked just hours prior, the playful smile on your lips marred only by the exhaustion you could not hide. 
He didn’t tell you the response he suppressed — suffocated, really — that you need only say when and he would answer your call without fail. He did not tell you how he hid a blanket in the library on the impossible chance he could sneak you away to Zone Z again. He did not speak of the joy that flared in his chest, bright and blooming, to hear your request. 
He had merely held out his shackled wrist to you, a small smile on his lips as he had replied, “You really shouldn’t make a habit of getting kidnapped by an infamous bad guy unless you want to be lectured for hours.”
Your laughter as you disarmed his tracker still rings in his ears. A precious sound — what would it take to make you laugh more often? How often do you laugh around your Ravens? 
Noan closes his eyes as his thumb brushes over the back of your hand in his as he curls himself around you. If only there were still softer parts to him left, maybe he could be of more comfort. You’re still sleeping so soundly, but it can’t be comfortable to use him as a pillow like this. The blanket he brought couldn’t be enough — it’s not, not to him. He has to do more, be more. 
Next time, then. 
The thought freezes Noan, barely suppressing the flinch that would have squeezed your hand — he could have hurt you. Next time? Will there be a next time? Would it be alright to hope for that? To trust in that? 
Noan calls your name softly, devoid of any titles. Caution laces his tone but it is no less gentle. 
Still you do not wake. 
Soon, this peace will end and his time will run out. You will return to the frontlines and he will return to his shackles, worn weary by painful tests and experiments under watchful eyes that neither trust nor care for him. 
“It would be nice,” he murmurs into your hair, “if you called upon me like this again.” 
Silence settles and the stars in the instance still frame the otherwise dark and empty room. Noan quietly tugs the blanket tighter around you and curls himself that much closer to you, every bit a child clutching a jar of fireflies for comfort. 
The feeling of you cradled in his arms — a paper crane, a firefly — 
This is enough for now
. 
54 notes · View notes
milaisreading · 2 years ago
Text
I really like your BLLK headcanons about y/n's plushes! I adore the idea about y/n as BLLK manager, so if you accept bllk requests, can I ask you, please, for  headcanons about y/n as bllk project manager and boys are whipped for her like in your headcanons? Have a great day and ignore it, if it's uncomfortable for you!~ 
Garden
Author:
Thank u for the request, I hope I am doing this the right way since I don't do requests often. Tried to keep it as short as possibleđŸ©·
Warnings ⚠: none in particular. Reader uses she/her. Possible manga spoilers. Requests are open.
⚜Blue lock belongs to:Muneyuki Kaneshiro and Yusuke Nomura⚜
It was one of those rare days when Ego allowed the team to use their phones instead of just training and sleep. (Y/n) was out with Anri to run some errands Ego came up with, much to their annoyance. The team wasn't really aware of the two being gone, as they were immersed in their phones. But it took only one post from a fan of theirs to set off a chain of chaos.
"Hey, (Y/n) isn't here today?" Isagi spoke up, showing Bachira and Gagamaru his phone. The two looked at it in confusion and soon after their expressions turned to one of realization, then they sighed.
"(Y/n) looks so cute~ Isagi, send me that picture!" Bachira commands as the boy sweat drops.
"You can find it on the internet yourself- Gagamaru you haven't blinked once since you started looking." The goalkeeper looked away from Isagi's phone and then at the boy, blinking a few times.
"I did." He simply answered, his face turning red as Bachira laughed and slapped his back.
"You are down bad, Gagamaru! Can't blame you though, (Y/n) is so cute and caring! Nobody could resist her!"
"True! She always does her best so that we are comfortable and can just focus on football." Isagi added with a dreamy sigh, getting nods from the other two.
"She also always pays attention to help us out with the parts we lack before Ego-san can scold us. That's really sweet of her." Gagamaru said nervously, his face turning red along with the other 2.
"Yeah." They sighed, but their moment of tranquility got interrupted as three of their other teammates entered the room, two looking confused and one pissed off. The former Team Z members raise their eyebrows at Rin as Chigiri and Rensuke sat down.
"What happened to you, Rin?" Bachira questioned as the taller huffed, sitting down between Rensuke and Isagi.
"Nothing. What are you two doing there?" The tale-eyed boy asked, his anger turning into confusion at their flustered faces. Isagi said nothing and showed Rin the phone, which still had the post of a fan on. It was a really simple picture of (Y/n) wearing the Blue Lock jacket and a mask, holding a box as Anri was in the background talking to someone. The caption was simple too, just a 'Happy to have gone outside today! Seeing (Y/n) is rare but so worth it!!'
Rin's face turned red and he let out a dreamy sigh, shocking Chigiri and Rensuke.
"What did you even show him? We have been trying to calm him down for the past 10 minutes." Chigiri asked as Rensuke leaned in to look at the phone. Chigiri looked on as his friend had the same reaction as Rin, just that it was way more obvious.
"Nothing much, a fan posted a picture of (Y/n) she seems to be out in the city right now." Gagamaru explained to the redhead, who took the phone from Isagi's hand.
"Hey!" The boy yelled as Chigiri ignored him while Bachira chuckled a little. The redhead blinked a few times as he went over the picture for a minute.
"Cute..." He muttered, grabbing the spot where his heart is dramatically. Isagi took the opportunity and took his phone from him, and then went to look at the picture again, meanwhile Rin and Bachira were leaning against his shoulders to look too.
"She looks so adorable~ Wish I was with her. I feel bad when she has to carry those boxes around." Chigiri pouted as Rensuke nodded in agreement.
"I never see her complain tho or even ask for help. Baro and I once wanted to help her but she just kept ignoring and asking us to go and rest."
"She is very considerate. We are very lucky Ego-san picked her as our manager." Rin added, causing the six to nod along.
"Guys! Did you see the pictures of (Y/n)?! The JFU updated some from today's conference!" Karasu yelled as him, Otoya, Baro and Hiori walked into the room. The others perked up as they looked at the boy.
"There are more?! Where?!"
"On JFU's official site. The pictures look glamorous, nothing out of the ordinary for her." Aryu said with a smile as he handed Chigiri his phone, prompting the others to huddle up next to him and look at them.
"So cute~"
"Look! She is waving too!"
"Look! The smile is there too!"
"Wish there were more pictures without the mask."
"I couldn't imagine being an outsider and only seeing (Y/n) once in a blue moon."
"Must suck. Thank God I am not one of them."
"You guys are so weak acting like that over some pictures. It's rediculous." Baro commented, causing the others to glare at him.
"What did you just say, you donkey?"
"Want to repeat that?!" Isagi and Bachira replied as Otoya let out a laugh next to Baro.
"Let's not pretend like you didn't have the same, if not a worse reaction."
"Yeah, your face was as red as a tomato from that one picture where (Y/n) was smiling at the camera." Karasu added as Aryu and Chigiri snickered.
"Weak minded king." Rensuke taunted.
"Shut up! Aside from that one, I am the most calm and collected."
"Anyways, my favorite one is where she was nearly caught falling asleep. Chigiri scroll down, you guys won't be disappointed!" Otoya urged, just in time when Nagi, Reo and Kurona walked in.
"My favorite one was the one where she is talking to Teieri-san. It always looks nice when she is relaxed." Hiori admitted with a blush.
"What are we looking at?" Nagi raised an eyebrow, walking to where Isagi was.
"Yeah, you all are quite loud." Reo said.
"New pictures of (Y/n). The JFU posted them. She looks so cute too!" Aryu said while Reo and Kurona ran to where Chigiri was, hoping to catch some glimpse of the manager.
"What?! Let me see. I didn't se (Y/n) in so long."
"We literally sat last night at dinner with her." Nagi told Reo, who looked at him dumbfounded.
"So? Too long- Hey Chigiri, can you return to the previous picture?" Reo urged as the boy agreed, wondering where their phones were.
"Whatever, hope (Y/n) will be back soon. I want to show her a new trick I learned." Kurona muttered, trying to move Gagamaru's head out of his sight.
"The real her is better than any of the pictures. These just don't do her justice." Karasu added, prompting the rest to agree unanimously.
"Oh? Rin, you seem in a better mood too? What were you even mad over?" Kunigami suddenly asked the tale-eyed boy, who just shook his head, trying to enjoy (Y/n)'s pictures in peace.
"Nothing...I forgot about it."
An hour before...
Rin was in the main hall enjoying the silence as he went through his phone, just checking in to see what his favorite artists and footballers were posting, when a message from his brother popped up. Now, him and Sae were now on better terms than previously, but not so much better for the older to write him at random times of the day. Cautiously, Rin opened the message and boy did he wish he didn't.
Sae: Hey Rin, you are good friends with your manager, right?
Sae: Could you tell me if she has any social media?
Sae: Could you also give her my phone number. She isn't dating anyone, right?
Present time...
"Absolutely nothing, it was resolved, anyways." Rin said to his orange-haired teammate, knowing his brother is probably pissed that he had left him on read.
"Can I show you another picture of (Y/n) I found on my camera roll? I think it was from our U-20 match!" Reo suddenly said, catching everyone's attention now.
"Show!"
"I wanna see!"
"When is (Y/n) coming back again?"
"Not sure, Gagamaru. I hope soon."
Meanwhile on the other side of the Blue Lock building (Y/n) let out a sneeze as she was looking through the 1st aid kid.
"Are you alright?" Niki asked in alarm as (Y/n) waved him off.
"Yeah, must be seasonal sickness. Anyways, how did you even manage to cut your finger like this? I am not used to you being clumsy." Niki blushed a little and looked away as (Y/n) started disinfecting his cut.
"Accidents, you know!" Niko answered nervously, enjoying the short moment he had with her.
'Her hands are so soft!!'
667 notes · View notes
tekumaniac311 · 5 months ago
Text
Gala talk
At a Space Rider gala event. All Space Rider groups were socializing, chilling out, singing or dancing in their fancy gala outfits. One among them was Dogbite sipping his own drink as he watched with..annoyance?
Dancing together out on the dance floor was his own second in command, Drago Kitano and with him, Craftycorn, the archivist for his brother's team. Drago was calmly smiling as he slow danced with her, Crafty looked transfixed in Drago's gaze as she went with the flow, a soft blush showing on her white cheeks.
Dogbite had been trying to get his team to avoid his brothers own squad, claiming that because they were "better" they have better things to do than hang out with "amateurs" unfortunately for him the "competition" have been growing closer and closer to eachother forming friendships, much to his dismay.
He then looked to his left to see another of Dogday's team Bubba Bubbaphant, socializing with his chef and communicator Mama Mammoth, from the looks they were walking together with her arm linked with his and giggling, sharing a nice conversation. Close to them was his medical expert Prettybird lending a hand to KickinChicken, with a smile on her beak Pretty winked at him, showing a makeup covered eyelid.
Nearby out on the dance floor, Leopardaisy was jamming out with Hoppy Hopscotch, at the refreshment table Catnap and Lean Lemur looked like they were just chatting, Catnap looked like he was giving words of assurance and Lemur was smiling through, understanding how things can be sometime. PickyPiggy was pouring FixFox a glass of punch for her, with FixFox thanking her and pouring a glass of punch for her in return.
As for Berserkerine, he was leaning against a wall, arms crossed. His usual place for he didn't like gala events, up til Bobby Bearhug came up to him, wanting to dance "Pweeeaaase." She asked the wolverine. "Sorry but..i don't do dancing, redbear." Berserk said to her. "TOO BAD!" Bobby shouted, startling Berserk as she took his hands "If you can "dance" around with those fists, surely you can dance with me." Berserkerine gave annoyed snarl at Bobby "Fine."
Dogday, Dogbite's brother and leader of the other team walked up next to him, amused. "It's nice that our teammates are getting along, huh?" Dogbite growled and took a sip of his drink, squeezing it and causing it to crack. "Hm." Was all he could mutter "Come on, what's the matter little bro?" Dogday asked smirking. "The matter, big brother? Okay, WHY exactly is my team, who i've built from the ground up, and lead into combat numerous times is hanging out with YOUR pack of clowns?" "Come on, Dogbite. Alienating your team ain't good, after all we're alike and on the same side--" Dogbite cut him off "No way, we're RIVALS, wanting to take out the Prototype first before the other can."
Strutting up to them was a cat in a masquerade mask, it was of course, Z. "What's going on here?" The masked cat asked "Oh god, it's him...What do YOU want?" The masqueraded cat just chuckled at the younger brothers spitefulness "Just to chill, besides Dogbite. You should really listen to your brother."
As Z began to explain, some of the gala guests began to put on...cult masks!!! And pull out weapons, they were prepared to attack. Z continued to talk to the two dogs unaware what was transpiring behind them.
"And from personal experience, who you call the pack of "clowns" I consider allies and buddies. You both maybe separate teams, but your both on the same SIDE." Z finished with a smile. "Watchout!!!" Shouted Drago from a distance, the three looked just in time to see Drago and Crafty duck to avoid a laser shot from a cultist before fighting back, and all around them they see the secret cult members attack the guests and other party goers.
Berserkerine and Bobby stopped dancing hearing the chaos "Alright! My kind of party!" He grinned and removed his blazer, ready to bash down some skulls and rushed at them. "And there he goes. :3" Bobby huffed amused, she saw a cultist come at her and ducked a swing, without a second thought, she reached for the punch bowl and tossed it at the cultist.
Leopardaisy and Hoppy already began to fight back, as did Prettybird, FixFox, Picky, Kickin, Catnap and Lemur. Bubba took a stick and whacked at the cultist who came at him and Mama, Mama meanwhile picked up the cake that she baked for this gala and slammed it onto the cultist's face. "Mama, didn't you bake that??" Bubba asked "I can bake another, baby." Mama said.
"Well, let's not let them have all the fun, I'll talk to ya later, captains." Z winked and strutted to the fighting, leaving Dogday a little bit flustered, Dogbite facepalmed "Ugh, let's just take em out! Betcha me and my pals will take out more cultists than yours!" A small batch of cultists approached the brothers "Always the competitive type, little brother.."
The two brothers stood side to side about to attack "As said, I ain't resting till I hear 'Little brother, you've always been better than me'." Dogbite said "Hmph, someday you'll see the bigger picture." Dogday commented.
And with that, the two dogs punch the POV of a cultist.
THE END
space riders belong to @onyxonline
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doumadono · 1 year ago
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‌Z BUTA WJEĆ»DĆ»A DO SINFUL SUNDAY ‌
Sooooooo..... You know how you gave us your wonderful MHA mixed with vikings????
You know that I am a little shit that loves to annoy you??
Good BC THAT'S WHAT I AM DOING FOR THIS SINFUL SUNDAY!!!!
I would like to ask for a smut with your viking Hawks :3
Why??? Bc I can >:3
Of course feel free to ignor it.
💎đŸș
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Warnings: viking!Hawks
SINFUL SUNDAY KVITRAVN - MHA VIKING AU
In the dimly lit hall of the Viking longhouse, the crackling flames cast flickering shadows on the rugged walls. The air was thick with tension, a palpable energy that seemed to swirl around the figure of the formidable Viking leader, Hawks. His piercing gaze bore into yours, the ones of the thrall, a silent invitation that sent shivers down your spine.
The celebration ensued following the triumphant raid led by Earl Hawks. After a successful return with his warriors and shieldmaidens, a grand feast was organized to commemorate their achievements.
As the feast raged on around you, the clinking of tankards and the distant sounds of merriment faded into the background. The world narrowed down to the man before you, adorned in furs and leather, an embodiment of raw power.
Wordlessly, he led you to a secluded alcove, shielded from prying eyes. The air was charged with anticipation as Hawks closed the distance between you. His lips crashed onto yours, demanding and possessive. The taste of mead lingered on his tongue as he deepened the kiss, a fiery dance that left you breathless.
Cloaked in the heat of the moment, Hawks' hands roamed over your body, fingers deftly undoing the intricate fastenings of your garments. The air was thick with the scent of passion as he lifted you onto a sturdy wooden table, his eyes never leaving yours.
The rough-hewn table became a battleground of desire, a clash of primal instincts as Hawks left a trail of hot kisses along your neck and collarbone. Each touch was a promise, a testament to the untamed passion that burned within him.
His hot breath whispered promises, and you moaned softly, the sound mingling with his own grunting.
"Look at you, my little thrall," Hawks growled, his voice low and husky, a command that sent shivers down your spine. The hunger in his eyes spoke of a primal need, and you could feel the magnetic pull drawing you closer. "I saw you staring at me for the entire feast."
"I want you, my lord, but I'm nothing but your servant," you whispered, your voice laced with urgency.
Hawks grinned, a predatory gleam in his eyes, before capturing your lips again in a searing kiss. His hands moved with purpose, divesting you of the remaining layers that separated you from the raw intensity of the moment and the cool air of his alcove.
The air was thick with the scent of desire as Hawks' fingers traced patterns of heat across your skin as they slipped between your thighs, rubbing little circles around your slick slit. His touch ignited flames within you, and you arched into him, craving more of the searing connection that bound you together.
Hawks' voice was a seductive melody as he murmured against your ear, "You're mine tonight, completely and utterly, little Y/N."
A whimper escaped your lips as his hands explored every inch of your exposed flesh, mapping out the terrain of passion. The sensations intensified, a heady mix of pleasure and yearning that threatened to consume you.
Hawks' lips found their way to the hollow of your throat, his tongue tracing a path of molten desire.
"I've wanted this," he confessed, his breath hot against your ear, "To taste you, to feel your silky skin beneath my hands."
His words fueled the flames, and the world around you blurred into a haze of ecstasy. Hawks' kisses left a trail of fire as he descended lower, his actions speaking louder than words in the intimate language of desire.
Hawks gracefully lowers himself to his knees, urging you to perch on the table's edge as he gently parted your thighs. Casting one final sultry glance, he plunged into a seductive dance of kisses and nibbles along the expanse of your inner thighs, progressively drawing nearer to your welcoming mound. With finesse, he enveloped his skilled mouth around your slit.
An unrestrained moan escaped your lips, reverberating in the room as you surrender to the sensation. Your head tossed backward, finding solace on the wooden surface beneath you. The sinuous arch of your back accentuates the pleasure coursing through your veins, mirroring the rhythmic motion of his tongue gliding up and down your moist slit. Every so often, he expertly flicked his attention around your sensitive clit, intensifying the ecstasy that courses through your entire being by sucking on a sensitive bud.
He withdrew, taking a moment to moisten two of his roughened fingers with a deliberate lick, and then he pressed them against your sensitive clit. The calloused digits skillfully moved in rhythmic circles, expertly stimulating your clit as he simultaneously delved into the depths of your pussy with his tongue, spreading your labia with the fingers of his free hand. "Mmmm, you're so delicious, little one," he commented casually.
"More, my lord," you pleaded, your back arching further as your thighs quivered in the midst of an overwhelming wave of pleasure, leaving you in a state of blissful abandon.
Hawks deftly slid his fingers into your pussy, skillfully preparing you for his cock. Meanwhile, his mouth enveloped your clit, and his tongue danced artfully around the delicate bud. A skillful combination of flicks and suctions heightened the sensations, intensifying your pleasure to new heights.
"Allfather!" You whined, slipping one hand between your thighs to rub vicious circles around your clit.
Hawks let you do that, grinning at your vulnerable state that turned him on so much.
In an intimate moment, Hawks guided you through the throes of pleasure as your first orgasm unfolded around his fingers. Following this intense connection, he gently lifted you up from the table, cradling you in his arms, and carried you to his bed, where sumptuous furs adorned the top.
The soft glow of candlelight played upon the well-defined contours of his legs, arms, chest, and back, creating a sensual ambiance as he started undressing himself. Each piece of clothing he shed seemed like a deliberate tease, revealing the toned and sculpted physique beneath. Finally, as his pants dropped away, his cock was unveiled, proudly resting against his abdomen; his tip leaking precum.
Hawks caressed his cock with deliberate strokes, his gaze fixed on you as you willingly held your thighs apart while your fingers traced gentle circles on your moistened slit, heightening the anticipation in the air.
With a whispered request, you sought permission, your words laden with desire, "May I taste you, my lord?"
Hawks, in response, nodded affirmatively, closing the distance as he approached the edge of the bed.
You instantly rolled to your knees and crawled to the edge of the bed, taking his cock in your small hands, spitting down on his tip, spreading the saliva with your hands all over his thick, hard shaft. In a matter of moments, you lowered yourself, delicately trailing the tip of your tongue along the length of his cock, starting from its base and ascending all the way to its apex. You enveloped your lips around the delicate tip, expertly applying suction as your skilled movements traversed the length of his shaft. The rhythmic motion of pulling the skin up and down his cock elicited a deep, guttural groan from the earl, resonating with the passion that enveloped the moment.
"Keep on sucking my cock, little one," Hawks encouraged. "Just like that."
In the midst of your passionate encounter, you delicately withdrew his dick from your mouth, allowing your tongue to playfully tease its tip. After a few teasing strokes, you eagerly sucked him back into your mouth.
His hands glided into the soft strands of your hair, cradling the back of your head as he began to rhythmically move his hips, the deliberate pace of his thrusts conveying a raw intensity. A low growl escaped his lips, punctuated by muttered curses, expressing the sheer pleasure he derived from the sensation of your warm, welcoming mouth enveloping his throbbing cock.
In the throes of escalating desire, unable to withstand the intensity any longer, Hawks gently guided your head away. With a commanding yet passionate force, he encouraged you to recline. Subsequently, he pressed you firmly onto the mattress, the softness of the bed and the warmth of fur enveloping you as his weight asserted its presence. The union of your bodies unfolded seamlessly as he skillfully pushed his cock into the depths of your pussy.
In the throes of passion, your shriek echoed through the room, a symphony of surprise and ecstasy. His cock's size surpassed your expectations, his essence an embodiment of unexpected magnitude. The profound stretch, though intense, danced on the delicate line between pleasure and pain.
He executed a rhythmic yet purposeful series of forceful thrusts, causing the entire bed to reverberate with each powerful movement. The passionate exchange of kisses between the two of you intensified, and as your hands trailed down his back, they came to a rest on his well-defined, round ass, encouraging him to delve even deeper into your pussy.
With one exceptionally potent thrust, he elicited another ecstatic cry from you, prompting you to dig your nails into his intricately tattooed back adorned with expansive wing designs.
"I'll cum, I'm about to cum!" You cried out.
Hawks skillfully guided you to recline on your side. Gently raising your leg, he positioned himself intimately behind you, seamlessly reintroducing his cock into your pussy. With precision, he cradled your leg on his hip, granting him unrestricted access to your pussy, and after licking his fingers, he brought them to your clit, rubbing it viciously.
In the heat of the moment, his rhythmic thrusts intensified, drawing forth passionate moans that echoed your appreciation of his prowess. Your arousal manifested in the rhythmic clenching of your pussy around his hard shaft.
"I'm cumming, I'm cumming!" You whined loudly, fondling your tits.
As the intensity escalated, Hawks skillfully transitioned, his hand moving from the delicate terrain of your clit to explore the bulge in your abdomen. A self-assured smirk played on his lips, his warm breath whispering seductive words into your ear. "Look at you, little thrall, all whiney and needy, just for me. Just look at how deep my cock is buried within you. You pussy fits perfectly to my dick." Simultaneously, he applied a tantalizing pressure on the prominent bulge formed by his cock nestled within you.
The slick juices of yours cascaded down his shaft, covering his blonde pubes in your slickness. Soon, with a few powerfu thrusts, growling loudly, Hawks came in you, his seed spilling all over your velvey walls as his balls emptied. "Fuck, fuck, fuck, that's it, take it, little one, take all of my seed, yeah?"
After disengaging from your proximity, he reclined onto his back, drawing deep breaths in an attempt to steady himself.
Unperturbed by your exposed form, you gracefully shifted to your side, observing him with a discerning gaze. Your hand delicately traced a path along the contours of his well-defined, tattooed chest. "Thank you, my lord," you whispered, your voice carrying a tone of sincere appreciation.
Anticipating an immediate expulsion from his bed and the alcove, you were surprised when, instead, he drew you closer, enveloping both of you under a layer of thick furs. His whispered words brushed against your ear, "I'll make you my queen. Everyone will fear and respect you, just as they do me."
Blinking in disbelief, you stammered, "But, my lord, I'm just a thrall
"
He fixed you with a stern gaze. "And I am the earl. Everyone adheres to my command."
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donttxtathebeach · 15 days ago
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Forever & a Day : an inside look
A Drew Starkey x Supermodel!Reader SMAU and Real Life Story
pairing: drew starkey x supermodel!reader
Authors note: this is my first series on here, it is basically just a written out version if my dreams ! disclaimer: Christina nadin and Camila pictures are used for certain parts pictures ( i'm aware that it would be catagorized as an original charaacter fic because of them, but thet only are used for certian parts. I hope that makes sense) otherwise it is mostly pictures from pintrest.
this won't contain smut; but there will be some angst and fluff
warnings: none
insight:
Forever & a Day is a journey of childhood friends, fame, love, and rediscovery. Y/N Williams, the supermodel who has been in the spotlight since she was a toddler, finds herself reconnecting with Drew Starkey, her childhood best friend turned Outer Banks star, after years of separation. Once inseparable, their bond was fractured by the complexities of growing up and the overwhelming pressures of fame. when both of their worlds colliding once more, Y/N and Drew learn to navigate the delicate space between their shared past and their very different presents. From the chaos of the fashion world to the drama of Hollywood, they face the challenges of reconnecting amidst their individual successes, evolving identities, and the unspoken emotions they’ve carried with them over the years. As their relationship unfolds, expect a multitude of emotions: friendship rekindled, hearts rediscovered, and the undeniable pull between the lives they’ve built and the connection they’ve always had. Will their love withstand the pressures of fame, distance, and time? Or will they find that some things are better left in the past? Follow along as Y/N and Drew embark on a journey of growth, understanding, and the complexities of love.
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Starring:
Y/n Williams- (Starkey later on ) 26
( Christina Nadin & Camila Morrone are used for specific vibes otherwise it is just pictures from pintrest that fit the vibe i'm trying to go by)
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Y/N Williams is practically synonymous with the world of high fashion. Discovered at the age of one for a Gap campaign, Y/N’s ascent into the industry has been nothing short of extrodinary. By the time she was six, she became the youngest person to ever walk in high-end fashion shows, securing her place as a true favorite amongst gen-z. Now 26, Y/N is not only a household name in the fashion world but also a cultural icon who transcends the typical model stereotype. With her statuesque frame , classy yet beachy style, and a walk that seems to stop time, she commands attention on every runway, from Paris to Milan. But there’s more to Y/N than just her look—her authenticity, paired with a quiet yet captivating charisma, has solidified her as a fashion It Girl, the ultimate muse for designers like Chanel, Versace, and Dior. Despite the glitz and glamour of her world, Y/N has managed to keep a grounded persona, offering a refreshing contrast to the often chaotic lives of her peers. she is a very private person, consiering her job. Behind the polished exterior lies a woman with deep emotional layers, raised by a mother who grew up in Greece and a father who lovoes her uncondiotionally. Y/N’s global upbringing has shaped her into someone who understands the value of family, culture, and balance. She’s a passionate advocate for body positivity and mental health, using her platform not only to promote fashion but to speak out for causes that matter to her. However, her heart belongs to her childhood friend, Drew Starkey, whose presence in her life is a constant thread throughout her journey.
Joseph Andrew Starkey (Drew Starkey, 31)
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In The world of Hollywood heartthrobs, Joseph Andrew Starkey—better known as Drew Starkey—has carved out a unique niche for himself as both a beloved actor and a fixture in the fashion scene. Best known for his portrayal of Rafe Cameron in the hit series Outer Banks, Drew’s rugged charm and effortless charisma have made him a breakout star. But there’s much more to Drew than just his roles on-screen. Off-camera, he’s a true embodiment of Southern elegance, blending his laid-back roots with a hint of the rebellious spirit he portrays in his characters. Drew’s friendship with Y/N Williams dates back to their childhood days, where they played parents in many diffrent games of family with drew's younger siblings , laughed together, and watched echother grow into the people that they wanted ton be. Now, as the actor’s career skyrockets, the two navigate the complex web of friendship, love, and fame. Drew may be known for his devil-may-care attitude, but those who know him well speak of his deep loyalty and protective nature. Whether he’s attending a glamorous event with Y/N or working on a new project, Drew remains steadfast and true to his roots. As his bond with Y/N continues to evolve, so too does his understanding of what it means to love and be loved in the public eye.
Sofia Richie Grainge (26)
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As one of the most sought-after supermodels and influencers of her generation, Sofia Richie Grainge is the epitome of effortless chic. Having started her modeling career at a young age, Sofia quickly found her own voice in an industry dominated by more established names. Her unique mix of California girl-next-door charm and high-fashion allure has made her a favorite among brands like Chanel, Dolce & Gabbana, and Prada. But behind the polished exterior is a woman of substance—Sofia is a childhood friend and confidante to Y/N Williams, and the two have remained inseparable since their first meeting on the set of a Gap campaign. With her signature blonde hair, radiant smile, and impeccable taste, Sofia exudes a natural, sun-kissed glamour. Known for her ability to seamlessly transition between the runway and the red carpet, she is the definition of versatility in the fashion world. Off-duty, Sofia is a champion of wellness, mental health, and finding balance in an often chaotic world. As her marriage to Elliot Grainge unfolds in the latter chapters of the story, Sofia’s journey serves as both a testament to her resilience and her growth as a woman, partner, and friend.
Hailey Rhode Baldwin Bieber (28)
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Hailey Rhode Baldwin Bieber, a name synonymous with high fashion, beauty, and influence, continues to cement her place as one of the leading style icons of her generation. Whether she’s walking in a runway show or sharing glimpses of her life on Instagram, Hailey has become a global ambassador for effortless style and understated luxury. Known for her impeccable taste and love of pared-back yet chic fashion, Hailey can effortlessly switch from streetwear to couture, all while maintaining her signature minimalist aesthetic. But beyond the headlines and the campaigns, Hailey is much more than just a model. As a trusted friend to Y/N Williams, Hailey plays a pivotal role in the narrative of Forever & a Day, offering wisdom, support, and a touch of humor when things get complicated. Hailey’s relationship with Justin Bieber is another layer to her story, one of love, growth, and the navigating of fame in a world that’s always watching. Despite the glitz and glamour, Hailey is grounded, practical, and fiercely protective of her closest friends—particularly Y/N, whose journey through the highs and lows of fame is one Hailey understands deeply.
Brooke Starkey (28)
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Brooke Starkey is the quintessential “cool girl” of the Starkey family—the real childhood best friend and the catlayst that startedt y/n and drew's love story. If it weren't for her and her persistance, Drew and Y/n would not be where they are today. —a little bit of Southern sass, a whole lot of smarts, and a heart full of loyalty. As Drew’s younger sister, Brooke has always had her own spotlight, especially within the Starkey family dynamic. Fiercely protective of her older brother, she’s the voice of reason when things get chaotic, offering guidance and no-nonsense advice. With her sharp wit and grounded nature, Brooke stands as the family’s rock even when the spotlight shifts to Drew and Y/N. Brooke’s personal life is just as compelling as her familial role, and as the story unfolds, she navigates her own journey—one that’s filled with both moments of introspection and excitement. Whether she’s supporting Drew and Y/N or stepping into a role of her own, Brooke proves that strength comes in many forms.
Mallory and Austin Williams
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Maliah Williams (44)
( face claim :Gisele Bundchen )
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Maliah Williams is the embodiment of grace, wisdom, and an unwavering devotion to the ocean. A marine biologist by profession and the founder of a marine animal sanctuary off the coast of south Carolina, Maliah has spent her life protecting and studying the creatures of the sea. Her love for the ocean runs deep, cultivated from her Greek roots, where the sea is more than just a backdrop—it’s a way of life. Having Y/N at the age of 18, Maliah’s path into motherhood was anything but conventional. While others might have viewed it as a challenge, Maliah embraced the responsibility of raising her daughter alongside her career and passion for marine life. In a way, she grew up with Y/N, navigating the complexities of motherhood while pursuing her dreams in the scientific community. The mother-daughter bond is something deeply special between them—while Y/N was out conquering the world of high fashion, Maliah remained a steady, calming presence in her life. Maliah’s sanctuary, which she runs with fierce dedication, has become a haven for injured marine animals, where she combines her scientific expertise with her love for the creatures she’s dedicated her life to saving. This sanctuary is not only a place of healing for marine animals but also a reflection of Maliah’s own journey: a sanctuary for both the vulnerable and the resilient. Her calm yet commanding presence mirrors the tranquility of the ocean she protects, and her wisdom guides Y/N as she navigates the pressures of fame and personal growth. Despite the challenges of balancing work, motherhood, and the demands of running a sanctuary, Maliah has always managed to stay true to her roots—offering Y/N a sense of stability and grounding amidst the whirlwind of her supermodel career.
Austin Williams (45)
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Austin Williams is a man of contrasts, embodying both the laid-back, free-spirited nature of a surfer and the disciplined, thoughtful precision of a pediatrician. Born and raised in Charleston, South Carolina, Austin’s journey is one of resilience and deep commitment—both to his family and his calling. Nearly 19 years old when he became a father to Y/N, Austin entered parenthood young, but with an unwavering determination to provide a life for his daughter that was worlds apart from his own difficult childhood. Raised in an abusive household, Austin’s early years were marked by hardship. He learned early on that survival required strength, grit, and a steadfast commitment to his dreams, even in the face of adversity. The scars from his past were not something Austin wore on his sleeve, but they shaped the man he would become—someone who would fight for a better life, not just for himself, but for his daughter as well. It was this desire to break the cycle and give Y/N a life full of love, opportunity, and safety that became his driving force. Austin’s dual careers as a professional surfer and a pediatrician speak to his ability to balance his passions with his responsibilities. As a surfer, he embodies the freedom of the ocean, finding solace in the waves that have always called to him. Yet, his commitment to healing others as a pediatrician shows the depth of his character. As a father, Austin is a steady presence in Y/N’s life, offering wisdom, guidance, and unconditional love. His parenting style is a blend of gentle nurturing and firm guidance, always ensuring that Y/N knows she is supported, no matter what challenges she faces. Though he’s the picture of calm, Austin has a quiet strength—he’s not just there in times of celebration, but in moments of struggle as well, providing Y/N with a foundation she can always return to. Austin’s complex history and the lessons he’s learned from overcoming his own trauma make him an invaluable source of wisdom for Y/N. He’s the kind of father who leads by example, demonstrating resilience, kindness, and the importance of finding peace in one’s life—whether in the quiet of a medical exam room or in the freedom of the ocean waves.
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Abbie's Corner:
I hope you guys enjoy a little glimpse of my dreams !!
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whoopsyeahokay · 6 months ago
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Alphabet Soup
summary: prompt fill. the journey of a clandestine love affair at several stages because Wally Clark craves what he can't have and refuses to keep his hands to himself. and you live for it.
(AN: this'll be a multiple-oneshots deal—out of order—with regular additions until it's complete.)
đŸ›Žïžprompt - Wally Clark NSFW alphabet.
pairing: Wally Clark x fem!reader
warnings: smut. AU - modern setting. romanticized toxic behavior. grey!Wally Clark. cheating. possessive behavior. egregious use of the word 'baby'.
bon reading, frens
___________________________🧿
Alphabet Soup - J
J is for the hot streak of jealousy that burns through Wally whenever he sees another guy in your orbit. Like a kick to the teeth, because he can't always do something about it. Not with Janet's arm banded through his, draped along his side like she sees him as more than a trophy.
But when she's not hanging all over him, Wally doesn't hesitate to strut right up to you. Clamps one hand on your hip and an arm around your shoulders, pulling you into the cradle of his body where you fit oh-so-perfectly; his little treasure, entirely meant to be his.
He smiles, lopsided and bright, and the guy feels safe for the ten seconds it takes him to catch how Wally's eyes darken with barely fettered anger.
His hold on you stays gentle, firm but light, and you're none the wiser. Merrily discussing whatever Chad or Jacob or Brent want to hear your opinion of. And, God, you're smart, Wally thinks, glaring into this dipshit's soul while he ignores the icy feeling of Janet's eyes on the back of his neck.
He inserts himself in the conversation here and there, rhetorical comments and questions that dig into Chad-Jacob-Brent's ego until, finally, tail between his legs, he excuses himself.
Once he's gone, you turn your head. Angle it up to look at Wally, big Bambi eyes blinking at him in concern, and, shit, fuck, you can't do that to him. So fucking pretty, all for him, getting him all needy and hot just by looking at him.
"Meet me in 403." He says under his breath.
When you join him in the empty classroom, he presses you into the wall, undoing his belt and fly with one expert hand, frenzied, already hard. His other hand bunches your shirt under your armpits, above your tits.
Wally's not above marking his territory, not that he wants to frame it that way, but there it is.
He comes over your chin, collar, chest. Lifts you by the thighs and plants you on a nearby desk. Smears the tacky mess into your skin while he eats you out.
"Tell me your mine, baby." He commands, fucks his tongue into you as he holds your gaze.
"Yes, Wally," You gasp, "yours," and throw your head back, biting the meat of your hand so you don't scream when he makes you come.
He helps you arrange your appearance in considerate motions, reluctant to admit that his eyes might be doing something soft. Leaves you with a rough kiss that tastes like both of you and promises to see you later.
🧿___________________________
also available on AO3!
A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z
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nervousd · 2 years ago
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OBSESSING OVER RECOM!
→ CONTINUATION
━━━ : © NERVOUS.D
#SYNOPSIS— in which all recoms are obsessed with their recom teammate
#WARNING(S)— yandere(?), unhealthy fixation, unhealthy obsession, non consensual touching, groping, implications of forced mating, implications of noncon/dubcon, abuse of power, manipulation/manipulative, forced tsahylu
#CHARACTER(S)— Recom Group/ Deja Blu squad
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Seeing your teammates being brought back from the dead was difficult to say the least. It was hard to accept that you had died and that this was the outcome. You had followed the Colonel’s steps in agreeing to project phoenix like a dog. And this is what you were given— not that you didn’t appreciate it. During the first week of waking up there were various test and blood sampling along with motor control and whatnot. It didn’t take long for everyone to be cleared. It was the clearance the squad needed to be sent out to Pandora.
During the expedition you had encountered a strange looking plant. It was beautiful— entrancing to look at. You were drawn closer, fingers brushing against the petals. In defense the plant spurted out a sweetening mist, coating your body in the smell. You reeled back in alarm, trying to dust off the pollen. You were given explicit orders by the Colonel to stay near the team. Stressing out his words, knowing you were the type to wander off. You didn’t listen— and now here you are, coated in a sweet substance. You scurried off to your teammates, stumbling in your own footsteps.
Heading back to base, you rushed to the communal showers scrubbing every inch of your body. The sweet smell didn’t go away, your teammates nagged you about the smell. Questioning where you had gotten such a nice smelling body wash— the teased you about it. Touching you far more often than you were used to. But something was odd— it was a nagging feeling. One that had left you constantly on edge. Your teammates however seemed to know something—Staring you down as if you were nothing but a piece of meat to them. They’re gazes gave you a shiver, tail curling inward as you tried to appear smaller to them.
They began acting oddly— Lyle was someone you often went to the gym with. He would be there spotting you when you would bench press. But his actions were questionable, groping your flesh and even pressing his hips against yours. At one point you even caught him sniffing one of your borrowed shirts, humping a pillow like an animal in heat. Unbeknownst to you the others seethed in jealousy. They wanted nothing more but to be near you, to have your eyes only on them. Their past feelings only amplified their primal instinct. They wanted a taste of you.
Z-Dog was passive aggressive with her courting. Flirting coyly and purring, she would take advantage of your confusion. Asking for a partner to stretch with, pressing her clothed cunt against your hips, exaggerating her groans. She was temptress, fingers skimming over your abdomen, trailing lower as she pressed her chest towards you. She knew exactly what she wanted and knew how to get it.
The other recoms had taken this as an act of war, each whisking you away from the other. At one point you were often stuck in quarreling fights, ears flattening against your skull as your comrades hissed at each other. It took a while for everyone to reach a compromise. It became overwhelming at one point, there wasn’t a moment someone didn’t have their hands on you. Becoming rather aggressive and demanding more from you.
Quaritch was surprisingly needy, often commanding you to be near him. Even going as far as using his rank to get what he wanted from you. He was curious on how the na’vi mated officially and was quite persistent on the topic. When he caught wind of the information he couldn’t help but dream of having such a life with you. One way or another he had used his rank over you. Extending out his braid towards you, gesturing for you to follow his lead. Your refusal at first was understandable but he kept pushing.
At one point Quaritch decided to take things onto his own hands. He cornered you in an isolated corridor, offering an ultimatum. You can either accept his offer and be kind about this experience he wants to share with you or he’ll force the bond. It wasn’t hard to choose the safest option. Sean was one of the many who became increasingly aggressive, hissing at others when his time with you was interrupted. He would tug on your braid enacting painful hisses from you. Deep down he enjoyed causing such a painful reaction. Even going as far as dragging his canines down your throat, nipping and biting the skin.
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Authors note: Other recoms will be mentioned during part two
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taste-your-silhouette · 1 year ago
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Pairings: Damiano David x fem!reader Contents: Fluff Summary: You’re at a party and you’re squabbling over a sofa with Damiano when he unintentionally reveals something while unaware that you’re eavesdropping  Words: ~1129 A/N: A touch of enemies to lovers for you all, because I love it!I should warm you that it contains some explicit language.Please, forgive me again if you come across any errors while reading. I hope you enjoy it 💙
I just wanna hold you close tonight
You're at your bestie's party, at her crib. Parties aren't really your thing, but there's no way to dodge one when your friend is the mastermind behind it.
The house is jam-packed, the music is blasting, and Vic, one of your pals, is rocking the DJ booth. Vic and Thomas, your childhood buddies, are also here, along with Ethan. You became friends with Ethan after he joined the band. As for Damiano... well, let's just say you and him are like acquaintances. You wouldn't exactly call him a friend because you both don't exactly hit it off. He tends to make you feel uneasy, so you try to avoid being in the same place as him whenever possible. Whenever his gaze meets yours, it's like all your defenses crumble, and you can't stand that feeling.
You've had a few sips, but not enough to get wasted, just enough to feel a little extra lively and adventurous. Everyone is having a blast, but all you crave is the comfort of your bed. As you navigate through the crowd, trying to escape small talk, you stumble upon a vacant couch in the living room. It's like a dream come true — all you want is to plop down and catch some Z's!
As you were about to reach the sofa, Damiano flings himself onto it, stretching his legs out and occupying the entire space.
"You've got to be kidding me!" you exclaim, giving him a stern look.
He gazes back at you, confused.
"What did I do?"
"I was going to sit there, you goofball."
"Oh, my bad, Y/N. Didn't realize you had plans."
You grumble angrily and retort:
"Move or I'll plop down and squish your head!"
"You know, that wouldn't be a half-bad idea. You sitting on my head, right over my mouth, to be precise," he smirks.
"You're repulsive. Get off the couch, Damiano."
"I've already told you no. Looks like you'll have to sit here by force."
You roll your eyes and throw yourself on top of him, engaging in a playful struggle to push each other off the couch. Suddenly, both of you freeze as you end up on his lap.
Damiano continues to stare at you, raising an eyebrow.
"Well, well."
You roll your eyes and simply say:
"Shut up, and you know what? You can stay right there, no need to move. You're surprisingly comfortable."
You push him, pressing his back against the couch, and then rest your head on his chest.
"Keep quiet, I'm tired," you practically command, closing your eyes.
Incredibly, he simply obeys your request.
//
You don't know exactly how long you've dozed off, but the party is still in full swing, and you're still sprawled on top of Damiano. Amidst all the noise, you can't hear his heart pounding, but you can feel the rhythmic beats.
"Is it the end of the world? You two getting along without exchanging insults," you hear Ethan remark.
"You say that because you didn't witness the battle it took to reach this point," Damiano retorts.
"Damiano, leave her be. Let's enjoy the party," a female voice you don't recognize calls out to Damiano.
You don't pay attention to what Damiano says, or perhaps he simply ignores the girl. With one hand resting on your head, you can faintly feel a gentle stroke through your hair.
He doesn't want to disturb your peaceful slumber. Seeing you so calm and serene lying on his lap is a sight he's never witnessed before. It's a far cry from the usual furrowed and stressed Y/N when you're together.
"Are you planning on staying there until the party is over?" the girl asks once more.
Damiano takes a deep breath and responds:
"Whether or not I stay here all night is none of your business."
Ethan lets out a faint chuckle and waits a few minutes before speaking up:
"Hey, Damiano. Deep down, you have feelings for her, don't you?"
You sense Damiano's heartbeat quicken. Could he be nervous about the question?
Damiano hesitates for a moment before finally admitting: 
"Yeah, I like her, all right? It's just that... she's complicated."
Ethan bursts into laughter.
"I knew it! It's as clear as day if you ask me. And I do not doubt that she likes you too."
Damiano's face lights up with a smile at the thought of his feelings being reciprocated by you. He has liked you since the day you first met, but he never quite knew how to express it. The playful banter and dynamic between you two became his way of catching your attention.
"I really hope so..." he murmurs as he rests his cheek against your head, inhaling the sweet fragrance of your hair. "Please, let her like me," Damiano whispers, almost inaudibly.
You let out a sleepy sigh, lazily opening and closing your eyes, but stay still, relishing the sensation of Damiano's heartbeat.
He likes you, and you heard him confess it. If you hadn't heard it directly from him, if Ethan or anyone else had told you, you would never have believed it.
One of your hands rests on Damiano's shoulder, and you glide it gently across his skin until you reach his neck, where you begin a tender caress.
With his other hand, free to move, Damiano strokes your arm and whispers in your ear,
"How long have you been awake?"
"I'm taking off," Ethan announces.
With your eyes still shut, you respond:
"It's not a big deal, but I heard you confess that you like me and want me to feel the same way."
"Look at me," Damiano requests.
You disregard his plea, not wanting to lose the sensation of his racing heartbeat.
"No, I want to keep feeling your heartbeat."
Damiano chuckles and gently holds your chin, directing your gaze toward him.
"You'll be able to feel it pounding over and over," he says.
You raise an eyebrow and inquire:
"Really?"
"Yes, ever since the day you entered my life, it's been racing at the mere thought of you. It's been yours all along, and you can hear or feel its rhythm whenever you want."
You smile widely and guide one of Damiano's hands to your chest, allowing him to feel your heartbeat as well.
It's just as fast as his.
"My heart dances the same tune. I suppose that's why I'm always on guard whenever I'm around you because my heart belongs to you too."
"Y/N..." Damiano begins, but you cut him off.
"Shh, if I recall correctly, I told you to hush, but it seems that proved challenging for you..."
Before you can finish your sentence, Damiano pulls you into a kiss.
It's a kiss filled with unbridled passion. A kiss that should have taken place ages ago.
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eueuphoriaz · 7 months ago
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Hange's last name
I am always amazed by how Hange never fail to greet people when she first meet them, and also introduce herself first.
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Notice how she always introduce herself as "Hange Zoe"? Sometimes with or without her military position depending in the situation.
And here are also some instances in the manga where other people introduce her as "Hange Zoe" as well. (I really like how manly Moblit is, like Sannes is staring at the chest pocket and Moblit quickly yanked his hand away)
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NOW
I realised that later part of the story, she only introduced herself as "Hange", or rather, she was introduced by the writers as "Hange".
The situations I found in the mange and anime are when she welcomed the Marlyean volunteers, and when Pieck initially addressed her. Hope I didnt missed out any but there are not a lot of new characters in the later part of the story.
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I would thought that she would introduced herself as "Hange Zoe", just like how she had done so with Eren (excitement). But nope, she dropped her last name.
Then when Levi and Hange met with with Magath and Pieck to form the Alliance, and Levi is trying to be a badass and addressed Magath and Pieck with their full names, and Magath doing the same back to Levi Ackerman, we see the Pieck dropped Hange's last name as well, and called her "Hange San", which I think is a polite and respectful way of addressing someone
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The whole sequence is so weird, with Levi and Magath sizing the other party up - then Pieck commending Hange (in a polite way). And then Hange concluding that the Alliance is necessary.
(Caution: Levihan filter is on)
I am just guessing that along the way, the author had subtly dropped her last name. There could be many other reasons why the Levihan vs Magath/ Pieck scene is depicted like this but Pieck could also just addressed her as "Hange Zoe", and it also wont change the tone and the whole atmosphere of the alliance beginning to form. Because she is still questioning how the Alliance is going to help Marley when she asked if Hange had seen the Founding Titan, so why not be a badass and just call out Hange's full name, instead of taking the indirect sarcastic route of addressing her as "Titan doc"?
"Seems like you know it all, Hange Zoe"
"Even more than Marley"
"Have you seen this Founding Titan for yourself?"
If somewhere along the timeline, after Hange became commander, and she dropped her name, there could be one possible reason why that is so....
She changed her last name to a secret one which is Ackerman.
Isn't it nice that we have a complete A to Z with Levihan.
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And throwing back to their self-introduction in the No regret manga.
Just a compilation from the anime. I also love how Romi Park says "Hange Zoe".
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