#and the only two posts of this fic I ever made on this site had completely different tags that didn’t at all intersect with each other

[sgtgarricks]

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ your gentle hands are enough

simon riley x afab!reader cw: nsfw, angst kinda?, unprotected vaginal sex, oral sex, praise kink, creampie!!, reader referred as 'pet' like twice, smut with sadness, hurt/kinda comfort, mention of johnny's death, simon is scared of commitment :(, we still love him.

reblogs are immensely appreciated! <3

NEXT PART (HEA): i want your hands on me for all my life

notes: my first ever fic that i'm posting on this site !! feedback is appreciated ♡ dedicated to @rowarn for being lovely and entertaining my rambles!

You and Simon weren't exactly dating.

He visits you almost every night whenever he's in the city and he's always gone before you're out of bed. But you relish on the rare occasions that you're awake before him — the moments you get to brush your hand through the raised scars littered all across his face, the moments you get to tangle your fingers in his hair to hear his little grunts.

Simon Riley has rough hands, scarred and calloused from years in the battlefield. Yet when those hands are caressing your body softly, you know he's being unnecessarily gentle to not let you feel the roughness in his hands — as if he was trying to prevent all the hurt and pain he's inflicted with his fists from bleeding into you.

You pretend to have only just woken up, eyes blinking slowly trying to adjust to the sunlight filtering in through the blinds.

"Morning, Si."

"G'morning, sweetheart. Sleep well?" He places a warm palm on your hip, not fulling resting the weight of it.

"I always do when you're here." You raised your hand to his chest and feel his heart thumping steadily below you. His body always runs hot no matter the weather and it makes you nuzzle into him more during the bleak winter.

Silence engulfs the two of you, lulling you into a vulnerable state of bliss as you recall the events of last night.

You had barely opened the door for him last night before his hands were all over you, lips crashing onto yours as he kissed you with desperation. Strong hands working swiftly to remove your clothes gently as he pushed you towards the bedroom.

Simon was always gentle with you, but you've been with him long enough to know the difference between him missing you and him scared at the thought of missing you.

Instead of gently laying you down on the plush mattress, he pushed you with a little bit of force than usual.

"Simon!" You yelp. You must've been too distracted by him to fully notice that he was now fully naked below you.

He had a glint in his eye that let you know you were not going to be able to rest until he coaxed multiple orgasms from you.

His hand was constantly on your body, not wanting to go for a second without feeling your skin under his. Greedy kisses were peppered all across your collarbone that were now marked with the imprint of his teeth.

You knew Simon was trying to memorize every inch of your body, leave his marks on you because he was going to go back on deployment soon.

This realization is what snaps you out of your peaceful reverie. That your Simon is going to leave you soon.

The mere thought of having to see him leave your apartment in a few hours and not getting to see him for another week? Months?

It leaves a sour taste in your mouth that made you frown and turn your head away.

Simon, ever so vigilant, notices your downturned lips. He cups your chin and swivels it to face him. He nudges his nose with yours, placing a gentle kiss on your lips.

"What's wrong, sweetheart?"

You hate that he was playing dumb. Hates that he thinks you don't know his antics by now. Hates that he thinks you don't know him by now.

"You know why, Si." Pushing your hands on the plush bed, you rest your back on the headboard. You stare at Simon disapprovingly, upset that he's trying to pretend everything is fine.

He sighs heavily and run his hand through his hair, messing it up more than it already was.

"How do you know?" He finally lets out, still laying down on his side staring up at you.

You scoff at him. Maybe because you've seen him through his highs-and-lows. You've seen his little smirk at your antics. Listened to his stories intently as he fondly recalls memories with his squad mates.

But you've also seen him coming to you bloody, battered, bruised, and shaking as you stitched his back. You've seen him scare himself awake at night, dreaming about the last time he saw Johnny.

He chuckles when you stare at him pointedly and finally sits up. He waits for you to stop sulking for a few minutes, before sighing once more.

The bed creaks with his weight as he tries to stand up from it, turning towards the window. You know what's coming next and you are fully aware there's nothing you can do to stop him from going on deployment.

What you can do, is at least try to make him stay a little bit longer.

You crawl forward from your position, throwing both your arms around his wide torso — at least try to, he's way too wide for you to fully engulf him in your arms.

"Don't go."

Your lips are pressed against his back as you softly plead with him to not go. Simon takes both your arms in his hands and angles his upper body towards you. Slowly, you move up from your sprawled-out position and kneel in front of him.

"Please." You slowly pull away your arms from his grip. He reluctantly lets you go before you slowly wrap them behind his neck. You inch closer to him, slowly leaning down and kissing his neck.

Simon moans languidly, still groggy.

"You play dirty, love." He cups your behind, angling his neck upwards to give you more access.

"You love it."

"Being cheeky, are you?" You grin against his neck, biting down softly. Arching your neck subtly as Simon tugged on your hair.

These were truly the moments you truly enjoy the most. Not that you don't enjoy sleeping with him, you definitely do. But being able to love him freely in the daylight made it much more intimate.

You suspect it's why Simon always tried his best to leave before the sun came up.

You know Simon loves you, albeit in his own unique way. He's never been nothing but kind and gentle to you, always making sure you feel safe and taken care of with him. From locking your door with the spare key he has after he leaves, to making sure to take care of you after having sex — always gets up to clean any messes he had left on your body with gentle wipes and ending it with a soft kiss to your forehead.

Despite your numerous attempts to get him to open up about his past, he doesn't bite often. Though, you know some part of him wants nothing more than to tell you every single thing about himself when he speaks little snippets of his past.

He doesn't tell you anything overly upsetting, always keeping it minimal and with as little details of violence as possible.

Perhaps, his idea of a small mercy.

Maybe he thinks he's doing you a favor, giving you little bits of himself hoping you eventually realize how damaged he is. He doesn't understand how those flickers of vulnerability makes you hungrier for more of him. You wanted him, thorns and all.

Simon lets himself get roped back into your arms, all his muscles relaxed, no trace any tautness or rigidness lingering. He feels safe in your arms.

"How long Simon?" You finally ask, preparing for the worst.

Simon was mostly gone for around a month.

But on the rare times you couldn't see him for more than half a year, it was like hell. It hurt so deeply knowing even if he had been killed off somewhere, you might not even know. The only traces left of him would only be the few shirts he's let you take and the Simon-shaped hole he would have left in your heart.

It scared you that you could never be able to smell his earthy musk lingering in your sheets again, that it would fade one day and you wouldn't remember what it smelled like anymore.

"I dunno. More or less three months?"

You hated when he was vague. He was often trying to spare your feelings.

"So... more."

He nods with his face still hiding in your neck. You can feel him press his nose harder and inhale deeply.

Deep down, you feel crushed. You always do when he has to leave. You want to tell him how much you love him again, how much you need him, and you wanted him to say it back so badly.

You thought you had gotten so far with him, slowly breaking down his walls after getting him to start staying over instead of leaving. Something changed after he lost Johnny — he was more touchy, more clingy, but he never let you get any closer anymore. You could physically feel him wince if you told him you loved him during one of your vulnerable moments.

The first time you told him you loved him, he looked at you with a somber look. He didn't say anything, but he pulled you close and gave you a bone-crushing hug.

I'm sorry.

He gave different reactions every time. Some days he'd simply sigh and drag his fingers through your hair lovingly. On worse days, he'd shake his head and do nothing else.

It was like an impenetrable wall had suddenly appeared when it wasn't there before.

You take a deep breath. Simon has been nothing but gentle with fragile you. He's been trying his best to not taint the heart that you've freely ripped out of your chest for him.

Maybe this time, you can do something for him and let him go back without the weight of your love on his shoulder.

"Better make the most of it then, eh?" You pull back from him and hear a grunt of protest. You start pushing him until his back hit the headboard gently. Kissing your way down to his groin, you tug at his boxers impatiently.

"Sweetheart you don't have to-"

"I want to." You cut him off.

"Fuck. You're gonna be the death o' me, love." He lifts his hips and lets you drag his boxers down, revealing his semi-hardness.

God, his cock is so beautiful. It's so thick you could barely wrap both your hands around it even when he's not fully hard.

"I'll make sure to send you off gently with a kiss, Simon." Your mouth slowly engulfs the tip of his cock, licking all around it. Simon lets out a groan as he grabs your head gently.

"Oh, fuck. That's it, sweetheart. So sweet, being so good f' me." He encourages sweetly and it's enough to get you preening and moving your head excitedly down his length.

Just as you know his habits, Simon also knows what makes you tick. Getting praised by him almost always makes you putty in his hands and he makes sure to take advantage of this information to its full potential. He loves to praise you even for the smallest of things, such as cooking for him when he gets back.

Telling you how lovely you are and how he's thankful for you taking the time to cook for grumpy, old, Simon.

You continue taking more of his length in your mouth, gaggling slightly from the sheer size of him. You can taste the salty precum on your tongue and your eyes roll back from pleasure, taking him in more enthusiastically.

"Slow down, love. Don't want- ugh.. you t' hurt yourself." Simon tries to pull your head back to give you space, but you're not happy about it. You glare up at him best as you can before taking him down to the hilt.

Nose pressed deep, you can smell the slight tang of his musk, making you slightly delirious. You moan, sending vibrations up throughout his body.

Simon trembles with pleasure, groaning.

"Yeah, you like that sweetheart? Love choking on my cock? Hmm?"

At his words, you slowly take your mouth off of him, replacing it with your hands. Slick from your spit and his precum, your hand glides along his shaft easily as he bucks into your hand.

"Mhm.." You put your mouth on him once more, only pulling away to rub it all over your face. "Love it so much, Si. Love having your cock in my mouth. Can't live without it."

Simon admires you, cockdrunk on his leaking shaft. Even with his mess all over your face as you slobber on him, he thinks you look absolutely gorgeous.

Looking up at him, it's like you can see hearts in his eyes. You've been wet since the moment you woke up to him next to you, but him looking at you like you're the only person he wants to see on him makes you feel on top of the world.

Unable to take it anymore, you whine pathetically and start humping the bed.

Simon sees you writhing on the bed below him and chuckles as you continue kissing all over his cock.

"Look at you.. so needy, sweetheart. You don't need to hump the bed like a dog in heat. I'm right here, love." With that, he gently pulls you off his cock. You groan dismay, body going slightly limp from desperation.

"Need you so bad, Si." You beg him, tears starting to form in your eyes. You think you're going to crazy if he doesn't fuck you soon. He's about to leave soon for months and you're desperate for him to leave his mark on you.

Simon gently tuts and caresses your cheek. He's in awe of how he's got such a lovely, needy, pet wrapped around his finger. He hasn't had someone this devoted to him in a very long time — someone who's always excited to see him come home, someone who's never asked for him for more than what he can give.

Maybe it makes him a narcissist that he's happy of the fact that you're so desperately in love with him, you'd rather have parts of him than not at all.

But during early mornings where he'd find you sniffling into your pillow, he feels pain in his chest where his heart resides. He knows you cry over him.

He mourns the love that you two could have, but he'd rather mourn over the fantasy he's created in his head — the fantasy where he wasn't fucked up and is able to receive the kind of love you freely give, than have you be heartbroken when Simon inevitably doesn't come home one day.

"I got you, sweetheart. Let me make you feel good." He rumbles against your lips. In a split second, he'd managed to lay you out on the bed and now hovered above you.

He takes a moment to stare at your face. Wide-eyed, sweating, and panting heavily. He peppers kisses all over your face.

His little pet all worked up over sucking his cock.

He's staring at you for a few seconds, making you writhe around, but you never break his stare. It was as if the both of you were trying to commit each other's faces to memory right in this moment, not knowing when you were going to be able to see each other again.

You bring your hand up to his face, slightly wiping the sweat away from his eyes.

His eyes.

The moment he looked at you, you know you were done for. Those eyes never fail to send shivers through your whole body, as if your entire being was standing to attention when his eyes were on you.

"You're so pretty, Simon."

That seemed to break him out of his trance. He grunts slightly as if disagreeing with your statement. You sigh, knowing he's never going to see himself the way you see him.

That's okay. You'll spend as much time as he'll give you to convince him.

Simon kisses and caresses down your body as you moan from the feel of it. Teasing you with his lips and leaving small marks all over. When he gets to your thighs, he slowly raises both of them as he lightly rubs his scruffy chin on it.

"Lift those pretty legs f' me, hm?"

When you don't respond, he gently bites to get your attention and you huff. You grasp your bedsheets so tight your knuckles were going white when you feel his hot breath on you.

"Such a pretty pussy. Just for me, yeah?" He kisses your folds gently, the sensation of his scruff causing a prickly sensation, making you wail in pleasure.

"S-Simon!" You were so needy and sensitive — Simon loved that about you.

"So sensitive." He murmurs against your weeping pussy. He runs his finger across your folds, gathering the wetness. You look down at him as he tastes your wetness on his finger.

"Fuck, Simon."

"Mm, my favorite taste."

After a few moments of simply kissing all around your folds and your clit, Simon decides to stop teasing you. He presses his face in your folds and licks a stripe across it.

He repeats this action multiple times, sucking on your little bud in between. He rolls his finger around your clit as his mouth makes suckling noises. The sensation of his tongue and finger on you make you gasp loudly — your eyes rolling back.

You arch your back and don't stop chanting Simon's name like a prayer. Like he was going to disappear if you stopped calling his name.

"That's it. Let me hear what you want, pretty." He brings two of his fingers back inside your walls, lightly caressing them. He's teasing you, waiting for you to beg him to put his fingers inside of you. You break instantly, begging for him to use his thick fingers to please you.

"Please, Simon. Please, please, please. Need your fingers in me."

How could Simon deny you when you beg so sweetly?

Humming against you, he slowly sinks his fingers inside your aching walls. You sigh in contentment, unconsciously clenching on his fingers.

"Relax love, you're choking my fingers." You relax a bit at his words, trying to get your breathing back to normal. The death grip you

It seems that Simon had other ideas, because as soon as you loosened, his fingers started picking up. You start wailing again at his sudden shift in pace, grabbing his hand that was gripping your thigh.

His hand lets go of your thigh and entwines it with yours.

"Doing so good for me. You can take it, sweetheart. Be good and cum on my fingers, yeah?" At this point the both of you were panting heavily, his heavy cock still leaking precum onto the bedsheets. You didn't realize it before, but you're just now realizing how the bed is creaking from his hips.

Simon pants heavily, the room getting warmer by the second. His heavy groans makes your pussy throb around his fingers as you feel a pressure building in your lower belly.

"Si- please. So close."

Knowing you're close sends him over the edge, his tongue works faster and sloppier in tandem with his fingers. Simon moans and and your back starts to arch higher than before.

You're now making a mess on the bedsheets, wet noises can be heard loudly as it echoes throughout the entire room. You feel hot, sweaty, and suddenly everything's too much.

The lights are too bright, the noises too loud, and you feel so sensitive it burns.

"Simon, I-" You whine, legs starting to thrash as Simon pulled his fingers away to hold your legs. You feel your nerves lighting awake as you feel every single sensation as he sinks his tongue inside.

"Love you Si, love you so much. I'm—" Your body seizes and freezes for a moment and a little flick of his tongue against your bud makes you lose it. Your orgasm washes through you like a crashing wave, causing you to tremble in his hold and let out gasps as you struggle to breath normally and let your legs fall.

Simon lets you catch your breath as he lifts himself up, still hard. You rest your eyes on him and you see him lick his lips — his entire mouth and chin shiny with your slick.

He hovers above you once more, leaning down to give you a kiss. You reach up enthusiastically, pulling him down by his neck. He grunts at the sudden force as you slant your lips against his. It's messy, his lips slick with spit and yours with a small trace of drool. The kiss is desperate, teeth knocking into each other more than once.

It goes on for a while before Simon starts to pull back. Before he's successful, you wrap both your legs around his waist and Simon gasps at the sensation of his cock pressed against your slick.

"Need you inside, Simon. Want you in me." Murmuring against his lips, your hand desperately wanders down his sweaty body and grips his cock.

He lets out a grunt at the sudden warmth enveloping him and is unable to control as his hips involuntarily thrust forward.

"Yeah? You want my cock? Take it, sweetheart. It's all yours." He watches in a daze as you slowly align him with you. The moment he feels his tip rub on your slippery folds, he lets out a whimper.

"Please Si.." You whisper to him. "Wanna feel you inside me so bad." Simon coos at you, seeing you beg him to fuck you never fails to make his brain circuit for a few seconds.

He teases you a few seconds longer, just to hear you beg more for him. He begins to feel bad when you start humping the air in hopes of getting his head inside you.

You're babbling incoherently now, eyes closed, hands wandering all over Simon's body. He gives you mercy and starts to push inside your throbbing hole. It takes a bit of time, but when his head manages to push through, he's already able to feel your walls pulsate around him.

"Oh, sweetheart. So needy f' me." He's also barely coherent, his eyes focused on his cock deeper inside your tight hole. "What are you gonna do when I'm gone, hm? Who's gonna fuck you this good?" Simon barely realizes what he's saying until he's spoken them. The thought of someone else fucking you when he's gone lights a fire inside him.

"Oh, fuck." His cock is fully in you now and you can feel every vein pulsating inside of you. Your hands are gripping Simon harder, possibly leaving red marks all over his body — you relish in the thought of Simon looking in the mirror and seeing the marks you left on him. "No one, Si. No one's gonna fuck me as good as you. Don' want you to go. Want you here with me." Your mouth hangs open uselessly, overwhelmed with the pressure of Simon in you.

Hearing you admit so openly you weren't going to fuck anyone else drives Simon even crazier. You realize now how much of an impact your words have on Simon when he starts pounding your poor pussy that was still sensitive.

"Yeah? That's right, sweetheart. No one can fuck you like I can." It takes him a few seconds to get his words out, huffing above you. You can barely hear what he's saying, ears ringing from the blinding white, hot pleasure coursing through your entire body. Your hands try gripping him as long as you can but his thrusts are causing your body to jostle relentlessly, and now your arms flail helplessly before holding onto the headboard.

Simon is no longer on his forearm, his head resting in the crook of your neck as his hands grip your waist. You're sure his hands are going to leave prints in the morning from how hard he's gripping you.

You don't mind at all.

Your brain feels foggy, only speaking Simon's name over and over again. Simon's no better than you, grunting and groaning at every thrust that leads him deeper into your hole.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck." He moans. "So good for me, so sweet for me." Your legs no longer have the energy to stay corded behind his back, limping helplessly beside you as Simon fucks you.

You feel another orgasm creeping up on you as your walls begin to clench around Simon's cock. Simon hisses at the feeling, leaning up to look at your cream gathering at the base of him. He looks up to the ceiling, gasping in pleasure.

"Si, I'm so close, I-" He brings his head down to give you a chaste kiss before pulling away, nose touching yours and staring into your eyes.

"Let go f' me, sweetheart. Gonna cum on my cock and be good?" He coaxes you, one of his hands going to your face. You don't even realize you're crying until Simon wipes your tears away.

You can't take it anymore, the loving look in his eyes and feeling him inside you breaks you.

"Love you so much, Si. I love you so fucking much." You cry out to him as you're finally sent over the edge. You wail loudly, back arching as Simon continues to thrust at a slower pace, going deeper than before.

"God, fuck. I love you, I love you. Fuck." He continues to mumble against your neck. Your jaw goes slack and another orgasm seizes your body as you clench and gush all over him.

His thighs are drenched from your slick and when he feels your walls pulsing repeatedly over him, he feels shivers all over his body and he cums.

The blinding pleasure takes him off guard, thighs shaking from the sheer force. He continues thrusting shallowly, dragging out his orgasm as his cum fills up your hole to the brim.

He gasps and bites down on your neck, not stopping until he's fully come down from his high.

You're shell shocked, one hand over your eyes as you thinking about what just transpired. This was nothing like before. He'd never said 'I love you', ever. You take a moment to regain your thoughts, heart thumping wildly.

By this point, your hopes had soared like never before, the small part of you that still believes you can have something with Simon begins crawling out of you — coming back alive.

"Si-" You start as you catch your breath and lift your head slightly to look at him.

"Sorry." He mumbles lifting himself from your body, plopping himself on the pillow beside you.

There's nothing but silence for a few minutes. A part of you wants nothing more than to confront him, get him to face his feelings. But you know Simon and that if you did that, he'd panic.

So, you wait. And wait. And wait.

Until he coughs.

"I have to go. Supposed to meet the boys in an hour." He grumbles, fumbling around to get himself off the bed and find his clothes.

Your heart breaks. Was he really going to go away for a few months without talking about what just happened? You had to make a choice. Either speak now or forever hold your peace.

"Simon." You speak with such a finality in your tone that it renders Simon frozen. He pauses putting his pants back on and stares up at you, terrified.

"I love you." You say, loud and clear. You've told him you loved him in the throes of passion and in the sleepy haze of early mornings, but never when both of you were wide awake. Like a secret that's only meant to be whispered so as to not let it get snuffed out.

You see his eyes widen for a fraction of a second. He seems to debate what he wants to say. You badly wish for him to just say something, anything at all.

He doesn't.

Simon continues to put on his pants and slip his shirt over his head. Once he finally gains the courage to look at you once more, he had to clear his throat. The forlorn look on your face would haunt him until the day he dies.

He knows you love him so deeply and honestly, that there was no questioning your devotion to him. He knows that you feel for him so deeply, you'd rather hurt yourself over and over than let him go.

But he's also once harbored care and affection to someone, fighting side-by-side with someone he thought was going to never stop speaking gibberish in his ear.

If Simon almost couldn't survive losing Johnny, there was no way you were going to survive losing him.

With his heart in his throat, Simon stares at you, fighting back tears that threaten to escape. God, he wants to kiss you. He wants to kiss you and tell you he loves you more than anything in this world. That he'd fight through any battlefield with broken limbs just to come home to you. But he knows he can't give you that promise. That promise that he's going to die of old age with you.

He expects you to cry or scream, but nothing in the world would be able to heal the way Simon's heart breaks when you only give him a sad smile.

"That's okay. I know you're not selfish enough to love me back."

He knows he should just leave, but he can't help himself from hurting you once more. Simon steps forward, cradles your head in his hands and lay a kiss atop your head.

And then, he leaves.

[ramp-it-up]

Anatomy of a Kiss

Summary: You and Logan agree on one thing: you both hate each other. So what happens when you kiss him?

Word count: 4.2 K

Pairing: Logan Howlett x Reader

Warnings: 18+ Only, Minors DNI. S MUT Not Beta’d. ONE DEADPOOL X WOLVERINE SPOILER AHEAD! Read at your own risk. S MUT! Enemies to lovers; snark to fluff, idiots in love; use of the words stupid, dumb, insipid as insults. Reader's father is either a mobster or a mutant villain, or both; (Reader may or may not be a mutant herself), a couple dark themes and mention of parent death; Reader has Daddy issues; Reader is a thicc girlie; Princess and Old Man as nicknames; there are two slaps; a tipsy kiss; povs switch thorughout the fic. pining; insinuations of masturbation, oral (f receiving), spitting, praise and degredation kink, size kink, creampie, cum play, explicit sex acts, raw p in v (wrap it up) voice kink, this Logan is Dom Logan.

A/N: This was in my soul for a couple of weeks, but I don't feel it's all that great. Here goes. Let me know if you like it by reblogging, liking and commenting please. Thank you. ☺️

I no longer have a taglist. Please follow @rampitupandread and turn on notifications to learn when I post! 😘

I Do NOT Consent to my work being reposted, translated or presented on any other blog or site other than by myself.

-----

The biggest mistake that Logan Howlett ever made in his life was kissing you back.

Because now he was never going to get you out of his system. 

—--

You were celebrating.

Being being voted best small business owner and philanthropist in the city was a big fucking deal. You decided to let your hair down and let go of your famous self-control and discipline for one night.

And now you were tooted on most of a bottle of Moet and Chandon as you walked back to your high rise apartment from the civic center.

It was a perfect night and you stopped and smiled at the moon, feeling sublime. 

Until you heard his voice.

“Keep moving before I throw you over my shoulder and get you inside myself, Princess.”

You rolled your eyes at your body guard, the only thing your father offered you that you didn’t reject.

Because you weren’t stupid. 

Other than sharing his dna, you were not like your father at all, and you divested yourself of everything that had to do with him.

“What about the penthouse? You kept that.”

Your body felt engulfed as if by flames. You were angry, both at the fact that you’d apparently said all that out loud, and at Logan’s audacity.

“Fuck you, Howlett. The apartment is my mother’s. But she died because of my dad and that’s why he wants to “protect” me.”

You wobbled as you did your air quotes, and you could sense Logan ready to spring to catch you if you fell. You recovered quickly, however, refusing to give him the satisfaction.

“But he can't seem to do the one thing that will protect me. Get out of the life. He’s an old man, for heaven’s sake!”

Logan chuckled and shook his head.

“He’s not so old.”

You were in full blown argument mode.

“He’s over 70.”

“Like I said, he’s not so old. And you don’t know so much, little girl. Life is not that simple.”

“I am 32 years old, Mr. Howlett. I am not one of those little girls that fawn all over you. I am a woman.”

You straightened up and you knew that your thick body in the black cocktail dress was banging.

Logan’s eyes reflected your body, although he was staring back into yours. He’d taken it all in earlier.

“You are a teeny, tiny little Princess.”

He was fucking infuriating as he smiled down at you like that. The alcohol made you step to him.

“Someone needs to kiss that insipid smirk off your face, Howlett.”

That stupid eyebrow shot up, and your belly flipped.

Slap. You meant slap, but Logan was quicker than your champagne brain.

“I dare you, Princess.”

—-----

After what happened happened, you hightailed it back to your building, the electricity zapping around the elevator as you stared each other down. As soon as the doors opened, you moved as quickly as your tipsy legs would take through your foyer and living room and down the hallway to your bedroom door.

Logan followed you.

“Princess–”

The door slammed in his face, and he stood there for a good five minutes, restraining himself from knocking it down, before he relented and made his way back to his own room. 

He’d confront you tomorrow (later today), when you were sober.

—-

On the other side of the door, you were thinking of packing your bags and moving to South America. You needed a continent between you and Logan. How in the world had you allowed yourself to give in to a drunken urge that manifested the late night thoughts that you’d had for months? 

You were slipping. Bad.

You absolutely could not face him the next day. You leaned against the door, relieved when you heard him leave, and touched your lips. They still felt as if they were swollen from the kiss. 

You were sobering up now, remembering it. But just a few minutes ago that dare was all you needed to immediately lock your lips onto his. 

You also remembered the way he’d pulled away in shock and stared at your mouth for a beat before he grabbed your hair, pulled you close again, and kissed you so good that your toes curled.

“Fuck! Fuck fuck FUCK! Fuck my life!”

You were losing control. And that was not good. Not good at all.

—

Logan couldn’t get you out of his mind. 

And that pissed him off.

He lay in bed, and thought about how, (if he could die) under penalty of death he would never admit just how often he thought about you.

He’d been glad for the room at your place that came with the job; bunking with Wade and Althea was getting real old, real fast. 

But suddenly this arrangement felt too close for comfort.

You didn’t need to know about the fact that the movie playing behind his closed eyelids during his little shower workouts every night was your sexy smile, or the way your ass filled out your jeans. Especially those black ones.

And when he thought about you wearing those jeans with that wrap around shirt that showcased your tits just right. Well, fuck. He’d have gallons of cum for the shower drain.

Nah, you knowing that would only stroke your ego. Somehow, his mind drifted to the other things of yours that needed stroking.

“Oh, Fuck all!”

He sat up and sat on the edge of his bed, reaching for a cigar, reason number 634 why you hated him. 

But if you hated him so much, then why did you kiss him tonight?

—---

Why did you do it? You didn’t even like Logan. In fact you hated him.

Right?

You loathed the way he called you Princess, an obvious reminder that you were a trust fund baby, although you were far from a child, and to spite the fact that you were trying to make your own way.

You hated him from the top of his ridiculous thick hair, to the soles of his huge shit-kicker boot clad feet. You hated how tall and how ripped he was, the way his arm veins threaded atop the muscles there and led the way to his thick, calloused fingers that felt so nice against your skin.

You hated the chest hair that poked out from the top of the tacky tank tops and flannel shirts he always wore underneath the ever present leather jacket, and the way his blue jeans showcased the muscles in his thighs. 

And you absolutely NEVER accidentally gazed at his crotch and ascertained that he was packing.

That would be asinine.

And his stupid face. That was the kicker. Logan’s face would be handsome if he didn’t wear that ridiculous smirk all the time on that mouth that might look nice if he was normal. 

The mouth that felt nice against yours. 

That might feel nice against your…

You groaned around your toothbrush and rolled your eyes at yourself, fully sober now after a quick cold shower. But somehow your body was still warm and buzzing.

What the fuck had you done?

— 

Logan didn’t even like you.

You were bossy, irritating, loud. 

Fuck, you were loud, always chattering away to your customers, always smiling and making them feel at home. 

He absolutely loathed the way you were trying to make your own living, despite the fact that your father was loaded. Running a food truck with the best tacos in town drew hundreds of people every day and giving away a portion of your food to the unhoused every night was what irritated Logan the most. 

More people to watch.

He was sure you did it to surround him with more people to hate. He just knew that you liked pushing his buttons. 

You just reveled in being the anti-Logan.

The more he glared, the more you glowed. 

On fucking purpose.

The kicker was you cranking up the karaoke machine on Thursday nights and belting it out to Journey or REO Speedwagon. It was so annoying. 

Especially the way you closed your eyes and swayed to the music during the bridge. The happy look on your face wasn’t beautiful at all, it was simple, and he didn’t memorize every curve of your face because it was a dumb one.

He couldn’t get away, because he had three months left on the security contract your father signed with him.

It was unfortunate, because you just wouldn’t shut up.

Except when his tongue was in your mouth.

No. 

Even then, you made noises. 

Those delicious little moans that vibrated down his spine and made his dick harder with every second. Moans that made him see visions of your mouth wrapped around his cock. Moans that gave him a waking dream of you giving him head, and…

Fuck, now Logan had a raging hard on and could not sleep for the life of him. 

He really did not like you.

—--

Kissing Logan had you in a tailspin. 

You punched your pillow as you tossed and turned in bed and conjured positive thoughts.

You could forget this.

Pretend it never happened.

Convince yourself that he didn’t taste like heaven and hell and the best fucking thing in a long time.

You could forget.

It was fine.

Everything was just fucking fine. 

All you had to do was completely forget the way he made you feel when he slid his tongue into your mouth. It was easy. 

Except you were wet as fuck. 

“Listen, bitch. You are not doing me any favors right now,” you mumbled to your cunt. 

She didn't care. 

Your pussy just continued to clench on air as if to say, “He’s right down the hall. Let’s just go finish what we started.”

You groaned and tried to smother yourself with your pillow.

It didn’t work.

—-

Logan just kept thinking of the way you stared at him between kisses. Lips parted on a gasp, plump and soft, right before he'd slipped his hand on your neck and kissed you again. Now your taste haunted him.

Logan huffed and put his head in his hands. Flashes of the kiss played like a movie in his head. Finally, he stood up and went to his door, ready to settle this once and for all.

When he opened it, there you were, in just a black camisole and panties, and god, did he want you.

But there was your mouth again.

“I fucking hate you.”

The problem with that was, he could smell you. You might be saying that you hated him, but your body was calling him right now. And Logan’s knees were weak at the power of his lust.

When you looked him in the eye, you licked your lips, your eyes dilated, your nipples tightened into stiff peaks, and your pussy weeping for him, Logan knew it was the end of the line of his self-restraint.

You smelled delicious, like your mandarin orange body wash and your wet-for-him cunt. 

He stepped toward you and you slapped his face, leaving him with a grin on his face.

Then you slapped him again.

“You got it out of your system now? That anger?”

He cocked that damned eyebrow at you and moved even closer. 

“Or is it frustration?”

——

You were in trouble now.

Not because you were scared Logan was going to hurt you.

Just the opposite.

Logan dipped his head to smell at your pulse point, body so close, but never touching you. Your arms went to grab his impossible shoulders and that's when his huge paws grabbed your hips, dragging you further into his room as he backed toward his bed.

He was full on nuzzling your neck now, and your eyes were rolling as the tension between you two was finally ebbing.

The words came tumbling out.

“I’m so fucking angry that you get me so frustrated, you ass..”

You were turning your head toward his, wanting his lips again, on his lap now, crotch sat on his unbuttoned jeans, and refusing to move to ignite the fire.

Logan grunted at you.

“I see that. You’re trying to stare me down even though you are leaking all over me.”

Your body clenched and got wetter at the naming of that fact. You were terrified of what might happen next.

Yet you wanted it so badly.

——

Logan couldn’t wait any more.

He removed one hand from gripping the flesh at your hips that he’d fantasized about for months, to trailing up your cheek to your hair to take off your scarf.

His fingers were in your hair again and your eyelids stuttered as you mouth dropped open for air.

That made him so fucking hard. And it made him want to kiss you again.

He had to know.

“What are you here for, Princess?”

——

His sexy whisper would do you in.

For good.

“I don’t know.”

Logan was staring at you like you were the treasure chest at the end of a quest as you tried to remain as still as possible on his lap. It was so hard.

Logan was so hard beneath you.

“Oh? Let’s run it back to earlier when you weren’t letting that big brain of yours get in the way.”

Frustration surged within you and your mouth got reckless.

“Stop yapping and just do it already.”

——-

“There’s my girl,” Logan growled at you as his dick responded to the challenge and his eyes flashed at your tone.

“Always busting my balls, aren’t you? Need to give that smart mouth something else to do.” 

Before you could reply, Logan’s lips covered yours so perfectly that it was like magnetic puzzle pieces. You fit together and locked. 

Logan’s tongue traced your lower lip and he drew it into his mouth, nibbling, gently at first and then nipping more harshly, causing a gasp and enabling entry. His tongue swiped at yours as he dominated you.

You were not going to win this round.

——

You could only whimper and grab his shoulders tighter as he kissed you. For all that was holy, why did his kisses have to be so damn good?

One of your hands ventured into the thick hair you’d dreamt of feeling between your fingertips and pulled as your desire peaked. Then your palms went to his face as he pulled away and you squirmed as you realized what was about to happen. 

“What are you here for, Princess?”

That question again.

That voice. It rumbled straight to your core and Logan wasn’t letting you off the hook. 

Logan wasn’t letting you up off of him. 

The hardness of his metal button and zipper, but mostly him (oh god he was huge) chaffed your thighs as he sealed his lips over yours again and his hand went from your scalp down your neck and back to your hip again, holding you down to feel him.

You finally moved, smearing your wetness all over your panties and his jeans and Jesus, it felt so good.

——

Logan’s eyes took in all of you in your scanty clothing, following your every movement and when his eyes moved down to your damp panties he swallowed audibly. He clenched his jaw with the strain of holding back.

Logan couldn’t deny that he wanted you. His 200 year old heart felt brand new.

“Mmmmph. Here for this feeling Logan.” 

Your voice was the greatest symphony. His stomach clenched when you looked him in the eye.

“I’m here for you.”

You leaned forward and nuzzled his cheek with your nose, then whispered a demand in his ear.

“Touch me, Logan.”

Without thinking, but instinctively careful of you, Logan’s claws extended, shredding the sides of your panties and rendering them in pieces. 

“Fuck!”

You gasped as he stood up with you in his retracted grip and threw you on the bed, the scraps of your underwear abandoning you.

He couldn’t stand it anymore, he was so weak for you. He was on his knees at the foot of the bed as he ran his rough hands up and down your legs.

——-

“I’m touching you, now what?”

He spoke to you, but he was looking at the juncture of your thighs, at the well-manicured hair there, all casual, as if he weren’t teasing the hell out of you.

You had something for him.

“If you don’t know what to do, then I’ll show you.”

You reached up and took off your camisole and Logan’s eyes raked upwards and widened at the sight of what you were holding, which was your breast in one hand, as you pinched and rolled your own nipple. Your other hand trailed down your body as your legs fell open to give yourself access to your clit, which you had the nerve to play with in front of Logan’s face. 

——

Now he was the one who was angry.

Logan snarled, then batted your hand away.

“Careful Princess. Don’t poke the Wolverine.”

His hands tightened on your thighs and pulled you to the edge of the bed where he was.

———

Logan leaned down, his hot breath ghosting your pussy as he looked up at you with those gorgeous brown eyes. 

You couldn’t let the moment get too tender.

“What if the Wolverine wants to poke–”

Logan’s hand covered your mouth, cutting you off at just the moment he licked a long, hot, wet stripe up the center of you and then pursed his lips around your clit to suck at you ruthlessly.

Your smart ass remark was forgotten as a moan bubbled up into your throat. Logan took his hand away once it was clear that you couldn’t talk anymore, or at least that your capacity for sass had diminished. 

You were leaning up on your elbow and watching him feast on you, convulsing with each swipe of his broad tongue and each pull on your clit.

As mesmerized as you were at his skill, you managed to brush his thick dark hair away from his eyes so that he could see properly. You didn’t want anything getting in the way of the best head you’d ever received.

——-

Logan’s hands were now palming the most delicious meal he’d ever eaten; you were practically sitting on his fingers. For him, you tasted even better than you smelled. He couldn’t believe it.

He looked up at you incredulously, watching your breasts moving with each heave of your lungs trying to capture air, and your mouth open to capture it. He met your eyes and frowned at you as he reached down and stroked his pulsing cock.

“What’s wrong?”

“The fucking Cuties you eat all day long. They got you tasting like a fucking orange. ‘S fucking impossible.”

He yanked you closer and buried his face between your legs. You made those cute little noises with every swipe of his tongue, and he licked and sucked until you convulsed in his hands, screaming.

You were still trying to catch your breath before he was on you, licking and suckling your hard and soft breasts.

“Damn,” you murmured as Logan swiped his thick, bulbous head into your entrance and meeting resistance, “You’re so fucking huge Logan.”

It wasn’t the first time he’d heard that phrase, but coming from you it hit different. His chest puffed with pride.

Logn smiled into your neck, inhaling your scent and growling against your skin.

“Don’t be scared, Princess. I’ll make it feel good for you. I should be more worried than you are. I’m gonna split you open, but you are about to shatter me into a thousand pieces.”

He didn't mean to tell you the absolute truth. But he had.

Logan knew there was no coming back from this for him.

——

You shuddered at the words which were breathed over your skin.

Logan trailed the tip of his tongue up the side of your neck the looked you in the eye. It was too much.

You lowered your gaze and he chuckled, making you sigh when he tugged on your lobe with his teeth and started pushing inside you. It was slow, but sensual and somehow still desperate. 

With each increment of himself that he gave you, you felt destroyed, yet you wanted more. You clutched at his chest as you widened your legs for him, as if that would help.

“No one else has ever made me feel this way. Hurts so good, Logan. More. Please?”

The question was, were you just talking about his penis?

——-

You begging him made Logan want to cry as he slipped further inside of you. When he bottomed out, you both shuddered, you at the sensation of such fullness, and him at the way you were so snugly and warmly wrapped around him.

“Fuck! Princess. Should have known you would be hot and tight. But I wasn’t ready.”

Logan wasn’t ready for you at all.

—-

His pupils were completely blown and the look on Logan’s face made you clench down even tighter as he stroked deeper into you. 

“Y-yess, feels so good.” 

You felt like liquid in his arms. Your hands moved over his shoulders as you hitched your thigh around his hips. He ran his hand up your thigh and around to your leg, holding you in place as he began to pound into you harder.

You whispered a confession into his ear.

“I’ve dreamed about this so many times.” 

Logan lifted his head from watching his cock destroy you, his brow arched in surprise. 

“You’ve dreamt about me?” 

You bit your lip and nodded, all of a sudden feeling shy. 

“At night after a tense night between us, I’d go to my room and imagine that you’d follow me to…shut me up.”

Your lashes fanned your face as you smirked.

“Oh yeah?”

Logan swiveled his hips and you gasped. He was lighting you up from the inside.

“Sounds like a cool dream, Princess,” he said, leaning down to your ear.

“But you’re talking far too much in reality.”

And he began snapping his hips at a frenzied pace, causing your back to arch and your mouth to fall open, leaving you moaning until you screamed with your orgasm.

You couldn’t talk; hell you couldn’t even think when he was going like this.

——

At this point, there was no more finesse; Logan was stroking in and out of you, almost completely leaving you and reentering just to feel that sensation again. The way his fat cockhead breached you was like no other feeling in the world.

Your arched back was displaying your breasts to him at a perfect angle. It inspired something within him.

“Look at you Princess. All gorgeous and fucked out and taking this cock for me. All dumb now. Bet you like not having to think so much. Just take it like the good little slut you are for me, yeah?”

His filthy commentary made the coil in your belly snap, and you came like a freight train, squeezing him so much that he had pull out to keep from coming himself.

He kissed you as you could only whimper in protest. Logan felt a warmth blooming in his chest that he hadn’t felt in a long time, if at all, as you lay melted in his arms.

He couldn’t wait to be back inside you.

“Can’t tell you how many times I dreamt about having you under me just… like… this….”

And he slid back home.

“Mmm… those lips down there suck my tip so well, how will these lips do?”

Logan’s thick thumb was in your mouth and you swirled your tongue around it to show him what your mouth could do. He groaned and pried your mouth open with his hand.

“Keep it open and do what I say.”

——-

The band was tightening in your belly again. You knew what was coming and nearly came again when Logan spit into your mouth. The orgasms were blending together now.

“Swallow.”

You did, and Logan thrust into you hard an deep while thrumming your clit. That was all it took for you to cum again and this time, you gushed around him, making a mess on his bed.

He looked down in disbelief and laughed with glee, handling you like a fuck doll to do with as he pleased.

That's when you realized that you loved being used by him.

“Bet ya didn’t dream you’d be such a dirty little slut for me, did ya, Princess?”

——

Logan realized that he was your slut, too. He was lost to your sounds, the sight of your beautiful lust drunk face, and the feeling of your cunt squeezing him with multiple orgasms now.

He started tracing urgent circles on your clit again.

“Look at me.”

That’s when you said the most beautiful words to him.

“So fucking good L-Logan. Cum inside me. Please. ‘M on the pill.”

“Music to… my fucking.. ears….”

——

Logan’s fingers moved to your shoulders, holding you captive as he stroked deeper and harder. His harsh breaths in your ear increased, the most erotic sound in the world.

You clamped down on him and he growled, his cock pulsing as he spilled inside you, the warm wave of fluid combing and causing a lovely, filthy mess.

It was so satisfying.

And you couldn’t let it lie.

——

He pulled out and stared at the ceiling in disbelief, before looking over at you to find you playing in his cum and licking your fingers, leaning over to give him a taste on your lips.

“What? You tired, Old Man?”

He shook his head and laughed as his cock came back to life.

Kissing you back had been the biggest mistake of his life.

He was never going to get you out of his system.

And he wasn't sure he wanted to.

-----

You shivered as Logan loomed over you, with that damned eyebrow cocked and that smirk on his face.

“Oh Princess. You have no idea what you’re in for.”

Then Logan grabbed you and kissed you again.

——

Reblog if you enjoyed it! 🥰

[ihavethedreamies]

Only You | Bang Chan

Bang Chan - Stray Kids

Rating: M (18+) MDNI

Word Count: ~4.6k

Pairing: King! Bang Chan x Noble! AFAB! Reader

Genre: Historical AU!, Joseon Era, Reader-Insert, Fluff, Smut, Some Plot, Strangers-to-Married

!!This is smut…if that much isn't clear you should probably leave now!! MDNI!

Warnings: She/Her Pronouns used, Swearing, Kissing, Oral (F! Receiving), Fingering, First Times (Readers), Breeding Kink (a bit), Unprotected Sex (This is pre-birth control so…), Big Dick! Chan (duh)

Summary: You are a nobleman's daughter and your father is struggling to find you a husband. The king refuses to marry all of the women brought to him and will not take any concubines. You end up meeting each other.

Author's Note: Oh boy! Here is the first part my dudes. I wanted to have this out sooner but I'm living with my uncle with my parents right now and so I don't have the same freedom to hole away in my room all day like I would prefer. Also can't really write smut in the living room with your dad like two seats away from you.

At the bottom I will have a guide for all the untranslated words I use, most of which are to do with the clothing they wear.

P.S. I only need to write the smut part for Lee Know's and Changbin's parts right now and then I can do the others after. Hopefully I will have one if not both of those up tomorrow. Hopefully.

Also, if any of my historical information/words are inaccurate, I apologize, I did the best with what research I could and what I know from watching too many historical K-Dramas.

-> Series Hub <-

-> Lee Know's <-

Let me know if you want to be on the taglist!

I am cross-posting this on Archive and Wattpad. Please reblog! If you know anyone that would like this or future fics but they aren't on here my name and icon are exactly the same on the other sites. Happy reading!

Sighing deeply for a third time, you lazily turned the page of your book, head tilting to rest on your shoulder. Your braid fell over your shoulder, the purple daenggi draping down and covering the characters in the book. Didn't matter, you weren't really reading it anyway. Already had several times. It was nearly impossible to get books you hadn't already read several times, or things that were actually interesting to you, because your father wouldn't let you get them. Most of the books not directed toward women that you had, you more or less smuggled into your house. Because of that, it was hard to get more, and so you were once again bored with your choices. A delicate breeze wafted in through the open window, a small bird flittering down to rest on the sill. You looked over its various shades of brown feathers and you wondered if you could ever get a book for studying birds. Probably possible, but not probable. Men don't want women that know more than them, that's why you can't keep a suitor. Your father's voice echoed in your head, and you rolled your eyes. Unfortunately, though, it seemed he was right. You had many suitors out of the sons of noblemen, but none of them stayed around too long when your conversations turned from dainty and feminine matters to things that actually made them think. Looking out to the sky, you wondered if there was anyone out there at all that wouldn't mind your learned state.

 ~~~

On a day you were actually able to go out, you were grateful it was your brother who could go with you. You both were wandering the various seller's stands and storefronts, only just glancing at most things. If you had a guard escorting you, you wouldn't be able to smuggle another book home, but your brother would help you. As you pretended to look over various different earrings, you cast a glance from under your sseugaechima to where your brother was at the book seller. Rummaging through what they had, he held a few up to look closer at the contents before putting them back down. Must all be fiction… Looking back at the wares before you, you nodded to the shopkeeper and moved on, instead looking at some shoes. You were closer then to your brother, enough that you could see when he held a book up toward you, pretending to rest it on his shoulder as he continued looking, like he was reserving it. When you caught his side glance, you shook your head no. Already had it. He sniffed, putting it back, and kept looking. As you moved on yourself, across the way, you watched a young nobleman sidle up next to your brother. He was a great deal shorter; it almost made you giggle, but you tried to remain inconspicuous.

"Oh, my lord, the book you were looking for arrived!" The book seller slipped inside his shop, coming back with a book you had never seen anything like before.

"I managed to get in contact with the Arab trader and he got it here all the way from the far west!" The book seller smiled wide, and you had fully turned around at that point, your brother looking over his shoulder at you.

"Thank you." The man smiled, handing over a significant string of mun before turning to leave. You weren't able to react fast enough, and he caught you looking at him. Well, not him, but the book he was holding. It was bound in what looked like leather and you had never seen writing like it.

"Wait, my lord, this as well!" The shopkeeper reached under his stall and the man went back, taking the locally bound book from him.

"Might be hard to read without the translation." The young lord smiled and then went to leave again, pointedly looking right at you as he did, a small smirk on his face.

"Let's follow him." You whispered to your brother, yanking him down to your level.

"Are you sure? He paid a lot for that, he's not just going to give it to you, and we don't have that kind of money on us."

"I just want to look at it, come on." You hissed out, following after the man before he got too far out of view. You heard your brother sigh dramatically, but he hurried after you anyway, making sure he didn't lose sight of you.

You finally managed to catch up with the man in a small courtyard behind a restaurant not yet open. He was standing at the edge of the stream, watching it, the two books held in his grasp as he rested his arms behind his back. Right as your brother caught up with you, the man turned around, a playful smile on his face. It was then you realized how gorgeous he was.

"Interested in this?" He turned toward you, holding the book up, and in your excitement, you dropped your sseugaechima, the garment fluttering to the ground.

"(Y/N)!" Your brother scolded, grabbing the head covering. You had moved so fast, you were already standing in front of the man, ogling the book. Even though he was probably four or even five chon shorter than your brother, he was still nearly a head taller than you.

"Aigo, put this back on." Your brother draped the garment back over your head, dragging you back by the shoulders a few steps.

"Wait!" You reached for the book, not having gotten to touch it, but your brother stepped in front of you. Stupid societal chauvinism.

"Apologies, my lord, but she's…intense about her hobby." You rolled your eyes behind your sibling.

"This isn't a normal book." The other man said, and you rolled your eyes harder. Obviously, that's why you wanted it!

"It's all the way from Dogil." Huh? Where?

"If she wants to look at it, she can." You shoved your brother out of the way, so hard he not just stumbled, but fell on his butt. The man held the book out to you and with shaky hands you took it. The text was so incredibly foreign, and when you flipped the book open, it didn't even look handwritten. Then again, you couldn't be sure since it was such a foreign script. Little symbols sat in the top corner of each page, and the words were horizontal rather than vertical. Each little letter was so small, the book cramped with lines. It was heavy too.

"This goes with it." The other man held the translation book up and snatched it from his hands without thinking.

"(Y/N)!" Your brother scolded, hurrying to get off the ground.

"She's fine." You moved toward a bench and sat down, opening the translation on top of the foreign text. Though, it wasn't a direct translation, just a catalog of what each word meant. It would take time to fully translate it.

"C-could I translate it fully?" You looked up at the man, your sseugaechima falling off your head again. He smiled and your heart skipped a beat, but you weren't sure if it was because he smiled, or what the smile meant.

"I would rather not just give it to you. What if you don't give it back?" His tone was slightly teasing. You deflated then and he held back a chuckle.

"You know, I have a lot of far western texts that I don't have the time to translate myself. You could come to my home and do it for me?"

"Wait-" Your brother's tone grew stern and you looked between them, the other man holding his hand up to stop the other's words.

"Rather improper I know. Though, the King can get away with quite a bit." The man was smirking, and your eyes widened. What?

"Y-You're-" You met your brother's gaze and you both fell to your knees before him, bowing so your foreheads touched your hands. Immediately, you realized how brazen your actions were. You were doomed.

"Don't worry about it." He waved you both off and you stood, head still bowed, avoiding looking at his face. Instead, you glanced back at the books. You wondered if the book seller even realized who he was. Your brother sat up, but remained on one knee, if he stood, he would be higher than the king. That was not allowed.

"What is your name? Who is your father?" He asked and you swallowed hard, trying to get words out. You spoke your name and family clan, as well as your father's name and rank. If he told your father about what happened, you would never be allowed to touch another book.

"Your age?

"Twenty-two."

"You're unmarried?" He raised a brow, and you nodded sheepishly. Reaching around your back to tug on the end of your braid, hanging down to signify your marital status.

"Your name?" He nodded to your brother, and he told him.

"Well, if you wouldn't mind showing me to your home. I would like to converse with your father." Oh, no.

~~~

Nervously pacing around your room, even down the halls through the building of the estate you inhabited, you wondered what was happening. You had scurried away like a scared mouse once you all returned to your home, looking behind you to the books held by the King. The King! Geez, you felt like you just escaped with your life. You heard your mother being summoned to go to your father and it had been nearly an hour of them talking.

"(Y/N)." You heard a whisper from outside your bedroom window as you wandered around it. You opened the shutters and your brother's head barely could look over the sill from where he stood on the narrow edge of the building's platform base.

"What's happening?" You whispered back.

"A servant just brought them our family registry."

"What?" Why the heck would they need that?! Unless…

"You think he's going to court me?" Your legs felt week, you weren't sure what to make of it. Your father had desperately wanted you married, but not enough to submit you to the palace. A life of luxury and prestige wasn't actually very safe. Most adversaries tended to target the women closest to the king since they were easier targets. You knew the King was unwed, and that the palace officials were just as fed up with him as your father was with you. Sure, you would rather marry someone for love, but that was hard to do as a noble. But if you did…that meant you could have access to the King's library. Was that his plan to let you translate his foreign books without it being improper? Honestly, you were fine with it. It was a once in a lifetime opportunity. If marrying the king gave you access to even more knowledge and learning, than you would happily do it.

~~~

After the long meeting, the King left, and your mother came to inform you of the results. You were right, he wanted you to be his wife. But marrying a king to be the queen was much more intense than just being a concubine. Sure, the king had a lot of say, but so did his ministers and the Queen Dowager, his mother. Normally there was a long selection process, but instead you were brought to the palace and thoroughly analyzed by palace officials. They interviewed you rather extensively, then finally, his mother entered. After more questions, she left with the officials and you were left to sit in the pavilion, looking at the water, uncomfortable in your nicest hanbok ensemble. All of your fanciest accessories were in your hair, on your goreum was a heavy norigae, and heavy jade earrings sat in your ears. You twisted the jade ring on your finger in nervousness, feeling like you were waiting for hours. Soon though, the Queen Dowager reentered along with a few handmaidens and a eunuch. You had been approved of.

~~~

A grand dowry was sent to your family's estate, and in return your belongings were sent in as well. You were moved into a palace set aside for the future queen, and you were beyond grateful that your chest of books made it to your new home. Waiting for the actual ceremony and coronation, you were put through hours of etiquette training and lessons. Over the short time it took for you to learn everything, and have the ceremony and coronation performed, the King had spent a considerable amount of time with you. Every minute he could spare. He didn't want you, nor himself, to marry a stranger. Never having been in love, you were sure your feelings were either quite similar if not the predecessor for love. In a fleeting whisper he told you his name was Chan, of course it was part of his birth name rather than what he was crowned king with. He preferred you call him that though, even if you only could in private. When he could, he would bring a few of his foreign books for you to look at, but he said there wasn't time for you start the translations before all of the ceremonies. Chan seemed just as passionate about knowledge as you were, and that made you fall harder. And it appeared to work that way for him as well.

The day before the wedding, as he left before the time was improper, he pressed a gentle kiss to the corner of your mouth with his soft lips. Your face blossomed red you were sure, and he chuckled gently to himself as he left.

The wedding itself was…a mess. Well, figuratively and only to you. You felt like you were being directed as a puppet going through so many specific rites and rituals. The most nerve-wracking part of the whole thing was being before so many people. Your tutor was proud you had learned all of your etiquette so well and you were ninety percent sure you did everything just right. By the time night fell, you were beyond exhausted. You weren't sure if you were more excited about your marriage, which felt more real thanks to your blooming feelings, or the future translation work. It was nice though that your love of scholarly pursuits didn't turn him away like all of your other potential suitors.

Finally, though, everything was more or less complete. You were wandering through the large room of the king's quarters, everything even fancier than where you had been. You picked at the white fabric of your sokchima, feeling naked despite being completely covered. Your hair was still in a chignon, the golden decorative binyeo holding it up made your head feel heavy. It was strange to have your hair up like that, but you were going to have to get used to it. For some reason, it felt nice to have that weight, signifying you were married, you honestly didn't want to take it out as much as you did. So, it stayed. You had bathed, rather, been washed by maids before going to the king's quarters. You presumed he too was washing up, and the longer he took, the more nervous you got. Finally, the side door that led further into the palace where the bath hall was, opened. Your heart thudded against your rib cage as you saw the King enter, also in white garments. He no longer had his headdress on, only the manggeon he wore under his crown was there. You wondered how long his hair was when down.

"My Queen." He smiled and you bit your lip, looking around almost like you were checking to see if anyone was around.

"What are you looking for, (Y/N)?" He stepped closer, hand going to your chin, tilting your head up to look at him. All the lessons that had been drilled into you made you want to look away, but if he was okay with it…

"We're really alone?" Not even his Eunuch was there, he followed him everywhere as per his job description.

"Yes, my love." Your breath hitched, the term of affection hitting your heart, and you stepped just a bit closer.

"W-we-" He stepped once more, his lips placing a delicate peck on your forehead. Still not able to get any words out, his kisses moved to your cheekbone, the side of your mouth, then his hand cupped your jaw, tipping your head up. Your eyes met his and you couldn't keep yours from flitting to his lips. Chan smirked, and you gasped as he kissed you, hard. Your teeth clacked against each other at the force and your head swam, trying desperately to match his pace. You hadn't been kissed before, not like that. Chan himself had given you a few small pecks, but this was different. He was claiming you.

His strong hands gripped your waist, one sneaking down your back to pull you closer, the other sneaking up the ties of your sokchima. The hand on your back went even lower, gripping the flesh of your butt and you huffed, Chan's tongue sneaking its way in your mouth. When he withdrew, you heaved in breaths, heart racing and with a final tug, your sokchima fell to the floor, leaving you bare. You shivered, goosebumps rising on your skin, but his next actions distracted you from the embarrassment of being bare. He undid the ties of his own garments and as the white fabric pooled at his feet, your eyes rapidly danced over him. You were convinced he was molded directly by the deity of sex, because he was gorgeous.

"Oh." You sighed and he huffed a laugh, moving closer, taking your hands in his, and bringing them to the ties of his sokbaji. Your hands brushed over him through the cloth, and you froze.

"A-are you…?"

"No, love. But," his hands ran over the bare skin of your back, pulling you to him, your naked breasts pressing to him.

"I'll get there." Chan whispered in your ear, then he ran his tongue around the ridge, sucking on your earlobe. You whimpered, turning your head to allow him access, fingers clenching the hem on his pants. His lips then moved to your neck, laying searing kisses on the flesh, strong fingers digging into your skin, and when you were pulled even closer, you felt his cock hardening in his pants.

"Come with me, my love." He pulled away and you pouted in disappointment, making him laugh. The room spun as he yanked you to him, lightly shoving you on the raised bed. You huffed, then squeaked when he grabbed your ankles, yanking to the edge of the platform, kneeling on the floor below.

"W-Wait, Chan-!" You tried to close your legs, hide yourself from him, but he was too strong, his hands gripping your thighs to keep them spread.

"So cute." He hummed and your entire body jerked, back arching as you felt his tongue swipe through your folds, the sensation almost overwhelming. It was hard to get words out since you could barely take in air, your body immediately catching on fire, blood boiling. You heard him hum as he tasted you, and you flinched when his nose brushed your clit.

"C-Chan, it's too much!" You shuddered, not sure how to handle the sensation.

"I need to get you ready, love, I don't want to hurt you." He finished his statement by wiggling his tongue inside you. The foreign sensation made you clench, and he rubbed your tense thighs with his thumbs.

"Relax, pretty girl." You tried to do as he asked, taking measured breaths, whimpering when his tongue left you, flicking your button again. Heat pooled in your belly, rising fast and you logically knew what was coming, but had never felt it before.

"I-I…fuck!" Your head tossed back, and he groaned at the crass word leaving you. Chan kissed your clit and that sent you over the edge, wind roaring in your ears with your pulse, and you barely registered him filling you with a finger.

"You're so fucking tight sweetheart." The curse word riled you up more than it even did when you said it for him. He helped your ride out the orgasm with that finger, each press against your back wall seeming to draw out your climax. Finally, the waves dulled, then stopped, and you finally recognized his finger inside you. Because he did it when he did, it didn't hurt, but it felt weird.

"Oh, you're so good." He smiled wide, his normal warn grin was hot with lust. You mewled when he started to pump his finger, the wet squelch of your slick and release seemed to be louder than anything else.

"That got you nice and wet for me, but you're too tight." His thumb barely brushed your clit and your pussy clenched, body jerking again, it almost hurt.

"Sorry, love." He continued with the single digit and at some point, he decided to continue and you let out a shuddering breath when he added a second. That…didn't hurt per se, the slight burn of the stretch was somehow more pleasurable than painful, and you wondered how much his dick would make you sting.

"Oh, oh my." You tried to hold back a whiny moan when his fingers wiggled and spread, getting you further prepared, the same pleasurable feeling starting to build back.

"Ah!" Chan added a third finger, and you lifted your head to look at him, one knee resting on the bed so he could kneel over you. Eyes flitting down, you noticed the tent in his white pants, and you swallowed hard. You didn't have any metric to go by since you had never been with or even seen a man naked, but-

"That won't fit." You whimpered, not even seeing him bare yet. Chan huffed a surprised laugh, looking at himself.

"I promise it will." His fingers crooked up again, hitting some intense spot inside you and you shivered at the sudden intensity.

"N-no, no, no!" You whined when he removed his fingers, the pleasure had begun to crest and even if it was overwhelming, it did feel good.

"Hold on, love, I'll fill you back up." You propped on your elbows to watch him, the tie of his sokbaji coming undone by his fingers, then the garment fell. Nope. Nuh-uh. Not gonna happen.

"Won't fit." You gasped out and he had a hard time controlling his smug grin.

"Let's see about that." He scooped you up in his arms, moving you up the bed so your head could rest on the pillow. The cool silk of the bedding did nothing to quell the fire Chan had set on your skin, especially not when he propped himself over you.

"I love you." He leaned down, nose rubbing over yours and you giggled at the innocent gesture.

"I love you too." Your hands cupped his face, and he kissed you again, gentler than the first. Distracting you with the kiss, he hitched one of your knees over his elbow, his free arm bringing his hands back to your slick cunt. His fingers ran through your arousal, then he pumped his fist over his hard cock, bringing the fat head to your entrance. Chan pulled back from the kiss, bringing your hands up to his shoulders.

"Dig your nails in if you have to." You should have taken it as a warning, not really sure what he meant. When his cock breached your core, the heated burn seared through not just your cunt, but all the way through you. Your back arched, and your mouth hung open in a quiet scream. You couldn't tell whether it hurt or was such an intense pleasure your body malfunctioned. His cock pressed deeper, and you could feel his pulse inside you.

"So tight, fuck, hmm, love your just perfect." He groaned, relishing the sting of your nails digging into his skin. After what felt like an eternity, he bottomed out, the head of his dick kissing your womb.

"Y-you're in my throat." You gasped, trying not to clench around him too much, cunt stinging but weeping, a drop of your slick hitting the bedding.

"Does it hurt?" His hand brushed some sweat-dampened strands of hair from your brow, and you shuddered through some breaths.

"I-I don't know." You had never felt anything like it before, obviously, and your brain seemed to be stopping and starting again over and over. He was being so patient, letting you adjust, but he shifted his weight differently, changing the angle slightly and the sting faded, pleasure rising, and you couldn't get words out again. He must have noticed the change in your gummy walls' pulsing, because he grinded into you slightly and, stronger than before, you came.

"Woah." Chan forced himself to breathe through your orgasm, the tight vice of your pussy nearly sending him over the edge and gushes of your slick shined on your skin as well as his. Your vision dotted with stars and your head swam, you finally were able to gasp for air, panting as you returned to reality.

"Are you okay, love?" He stroked your cheek with his thumb, and you held his hand to your face with your own. You nodded, swallowing a buildup of saliva.

"Y-yes, you…you can move."

"Are you sure?"

"Please~!" Your like whimper heightened into a moan as he pulled back just a bit, going slowly back in to make sure it didn't hurt. It didn't. Sure, it felt like he was carving his cock through you, but it was more than good.

"Tell me, sweet, if I hurt you." The next thrust, he pulled back a bit further, and back in harder.

"Please, Chan, you- fuck!" He had picked up the pace just a bit, still going fairly slow, but the stretch of his fat cock was more than enough stimulation.

"D-don't-"

"Don't what, love?"

"Don't…oh, fuck, please, don't stop. Just-!" Your toes curled, throwing your head back, nails digging into the bedding as he pulled out about halfway, then buried inside you hard. He sat up more, slinging your other leg over his elbow as well, rolling his hips against yours. Chan's eyes skated all over you, beautiful and bare below him, and when he got to your face he groaned. Your eyes were hazy, mouth open, drool pooling from the corners of your lips. You had never felt anything even close to the pleasure he was wreaking on you. You couldn't think, and you seemed to lose strength in your body, the crest of another orgasm building.

"Shit- can't hold back anymore love." He grunted and you didn't have enough available thought process to react. He moved his hands to your thighs, pinning your knees up by your shoulders, then he pulled his fat cock out nearly all the way, and started to pound into you. Tears rose in your eyes from the overwhelming feeling, little squeals of delight forced out of you with each thrust and your cunt spasmed. Chan just thundered through your orgasm, not stopping or slowing and your eyes rolled back.

"Fuck, you're just perfect love." He huffed a laugh, "oh, I can't wait to fuck you full!" All you could focus on was the heat of his dick and how much hotter your womb would feel full of his cum.

"Pl-please! Chan, please, fuck!" You gasped, his pace growing unsteady, and he finally fucked as deep as he could, hot ropes of cum filling you and painting your cunt white. Your belly was on fire and a combined glob of both of your releases dripped out from where your bodies met. As Chan panted, looking down at your fucked out state, he smiled.

"You're my wife now, only you."

Daenggi - the ribbon that was tied around a unmarried girl's braid. Sseugaechima - this is the extra-skirt looking garment women would wear over their heads. Mun - Joseon Era Korean currency Chon - historical unit of measurement, close to an inch. Dogil - Korean word for Germany, might not be completely accurate for the time. Hanbok - traditional/historical clothing, most people think of women's dresses, but men's clothes were called this as well. Goreum - the ties that fastened the top of a hanbok. Norigae - accessories that were tied to the goreum of women's handboks Sokchima - basically a dress/skirt like under-garment. Binyeo - the long pin that would hold a woman's bun up, mostly used for married women. Manggeon - the mesh-like headband men wore to hold their hair in place. Sokbaji - pants-like under-garment, mostly worn by women actually…

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[loulovingho]

okay so I wrote a fic based off this post that I made earlier today so... enjoy!

read here or on ao3

Thomas Kinard is eighteen years old and he just graduated basic training.

He's standing among nearly two hundred other graduates, all filled with some form of anxiety and excitement.

They're all standing at attention, although Tommy knows everyone's eyes are searching the audience.

They've all been given their orders.

They stand at attention until a family member or loved one comes and taps them out. Only then can they be at ease.

Tommy had called his dad a couple weeks ago. Left him a message on the landline about the date and time of his graduation. He hadn't expected a call back. The payphones at basic weren't great and you didn't have much spare time to be on them, but he knew his dad would get the message.

He wrote a letter to his grandparents, just in case. His aunt on his mom's side, and his older cousins too.

They'd been proud when he told them he was graduating early, joining the service, would be celebrating his eighteenth birthday in boot camp.

Even his dad has slapped him on the back and told him he was glad he was finally becoming a real man.

Tommy's eyes scanned the crowd, but it was hard to make anyone out.

He waited patiently through the ceremony. His heart skipped a beat or two when people began making their way toward the graduates.

He stood still, only his eyes darting around as the people beside him began to get tapped out. He listened to the cries of parents who had done nothing but miss their children for the past 10 weeks. Saw grown men cry at the site of their moms. Heard the laughter from boyfriends and girlfriends who surprised their partner by showing up. Watched little kids run to their sibling and wrap their arms around them in a hug.

He was certain that only a few minutes had passed, but it felt like hours.

As more and more seconds passed, his heart continued to pound, but for a different reason now.

Surely he wasn't the only one. As he glanced around, he didn't see anyone else waiting. No, he couldn't see everybody, but he was near the back in the center row so he could see most people, and they all had somebody with them.

A hand tapped his shoulder and his head jerked to the side, eyes wide. He felt a lump in the back of his throat when he saw his commanding officer standing beside him. He had the softest look on his face that Tommy had ever seen.

Pity.

“At ease, soldier.”

Tommy takes a breath, relaxes his posture. His CO moves in front of him, shakes his hand. “You've done well, Kinard. You should be proud.”

Tommy nods. Can't find his voice to speak.

He feels tears in his eyes, but he blinks them away.

He shouldn't have expected anyone to show up anyway.

He lowers his head as he walks off the field. A part of him wonders what it was all even for?

*****

Thomas Kinard is forty-eight years old and he just got promoted to captain.

It's not something he ever thought about until the past couple of years. He wouldn't get to fly much as captain. There's more paperwork, more politics, more people to answer to.

But there's also more stability. Especially with being the captain at Harbor. A regular schedule, forty-eight on and ninety-six off.

It was safer. There had been a scare a couple years back. Engine failure on his bird. He went plummeting toward the ground and, if not for a dense area of trees slowing his descent, the chopper would have exploded the second it hit the ground.

He survived, obviously, but his injuries were severe. He had a broken pelvis, fractured leg, thirty stitches down his arm, cranial bleeding, and ended up in a coma for nearly two weeks.

The recovery was long and so, so painful but he had Buck by his side every step of the way. Even the times he'd push Buck away, tell him to please just leave him alone, Buck stayed. He stayed and he learned all the physical therapy techniques and he loved Tommy through all of it.

Flying hadn't felt the same since. He was relieved when he had fully recovered. When he took his recertification classes and passed with flying colors.

But the freedom he had always felt with being in the sky changed into something completely different. There was anxiety. Relief when he was back on solid ground.

He stared out into the crowd, at the little girl sitting on Buck's lap.

Juniper. Six years old and looking more grown up every day. She was glancing all around the room, her eyes never staying in one place for very long. She kept pointing at things, leaning back to whisper into Buck's ear. He'd nod, smile, then whisper back. Tommy was sure they were swapping facts.

So much like her father, he thought.

He'd never forget the day he got home from the hospital. Juniper, only four then, staring at him as he was wheeled into the house. She was clutching onto Eddie's hand, her knuckles snow white. She hadn't gotten to see him in nearly a month, besides an occasional Facetime call.

Once he had gotten settled into the hospital bed that had been delivered to the house the day before, he called her over to him. She slowly climbed up onto the bed, Buck helping her settle beside Tommy without really touching him.

“You scared me, Papa,” she spoke quietly, eyes wet with unshed tears. “Please don't do it again.”

No, flying was never the same after that.

His eyes wander over the rest of the crowd.

A small smile breaks out over his face when he realizes he knows everyone in the first two rows.

Besides his husband and daughter, Maddie, Chimney, and Jee were there. Hen- or, Captain Wilson, now- and Karen. Eddie, Ravi, and Athena. Behind his family were all the firefighters from Harbor. They had been thrilled when they heard Tommy would be the new captain. He'd been taking cues from Bobby recently, starting special dinners with the crew and getting to know them better before he even became captain. He wanted his team to know he'd be there for them, that they could count on him. From the excitement they showed when it was officially announced that he'd be the new captain, he was fairly certain he'd done a good job so far.

The only person not in the audience today was Bobby. But, that was simply because Chief Nash was the one leading the ceremony.

Tommy takes another look around at the family in front of him. He waves at Juniper. She grins wide, showing off her missing front teeth, waves enthusiastically.

His eyes meet Evan's. Tommy gives him a wink. Buck smiles, winks back.

He straightens his posture as the ceremony begins.

He thinks, this... this is what it's all for.

[intheemptymirror]

bad habit !

idol!sumin x fem!reader

summary: sumin has a bad biting habit— and you are not exempt from it.

genre: fluff, slightly suggestive

warnings: biting (duh), a bit suggestive in the last scenario but it’s fluffy otherwise, sumin and reader are said to be the same age (20), in the first two scenarios sumin and reader aren’t dating yet (just crushes) but in the last two they are (//∇//)

a/n: my first xikers post! and also like my first full fic ever (⌒▽⌒) there’s a serious lack of xikers content on this site, i’ve already read through all of it 💀 but i hope this small fic is enough to make other roady’s on here happy too. i have a jinsik drabble im working on too so pls look forward to that (*´∇｀*) lowkey the second scenario gave me crazy butterflies like it made me giddy af (before the ending anyways) and i was the one that wrote it 😭 but i feel like my writing is super obviously amateur, which makes me a bit embarrassed but hopefully this is an enjoyable read anyways ���・°°・(＞_＜)・°°・。

sumin loved to use his teeth.

you found this out when you were both six and in elementary school and he bit you because you took the toy he was wanting to play with for recess. it went about as well as you’d imagine. you started crying before swinging the toy down and hitting sumin on the back with it, causing him to burst out into tears as well. in the end, both of your parents were called and you got the scolding of a life time from your mother when you got home.

sumin brought a sweet flavored candy the next day along with a slightly less sweet apology. he didn’t make eye contact with you and he mumbled out a simple “sorry” and nothing else before shoving the candy your way, but you accepted the both of them nonetheless. you gave him a toothy smile (which in sumin’s opinion was the sweetest thing he had with him that day, though he’d never admit it) before taking his hand in yours and dragging him out to play. despite the severely rocky start to your friendship, the both of you had been inseparable ever since.

maybe it was this first experience with each other that let you stay so close with each other even fourteen years later, because from the very beginning you knew what he was— a biter.

— !

the xiker’s boys had invited you over to one of their dorms for their monthly hangout night— ideally it would be a weekly thing, but their schedules never allowed for rest days that consistently. being sumin’s best friend since before he even knew about the existence of xikers, you had gotten pretty close with the rest of them. of course, sumin has and always will be your favorite— much to the disdain of the others.

you stood behind the couch with a smile on your face while seeun, minjae, and yechan occupied the cushions. all of your gazes were completely locked onto the tv, where a very intense and serious game of mario kart was occurring. “seeun, stop cheating!” minjae yelled out when said boy started to move into minjae’s space in an attempt to distract him, his body being bumped into yechan who was on his right. this only made yechan start to push back against minjae, eventually leading to the three boys getting into each others personal space in an attempt to completely sabotage their gameplay.

their shenanigans caused small giggles to leave your lips, completely unaware of the set of eyes that were locked onto you instead of the game. sumin stood off to the side by the dining table, leaning against the wall with a fond look on his face. when sumin had first thought of introducing you to his members, he was truthfully a little nervous. “what if they don’t like each other?” “what if they get into a fist fight?” “what if someone dies and the night is plagued with that experience forever and as a result they can never get along?” sumin knows now that all of those thoughts were absolutely ridiculous (some more so than others), but he truly just wanted all of his favorite people to like each other as much as he did.

“careful, if you stare any harder they might burst into flames.” the flat voice that seemingly appeared out of nowhere made sumin jump before he looked to his left where junghoon was eyeing him with his arms crossed and a knowing look on his face. sumin’s surprise relaxed before he tensed up again at junghoon’s implications. he forced out an awkward laugh and shook his head. “i don’t know what you’re talking about.”

junghoon didn’t say anything, but with a gaze like his, he didn’t really need to. his expression seemingly stayed the same, but sumin didn’t miss the way his eyes narrowed and his eyebrows subtly raised. sumin swallowed harshly and seemed to sink into himself as he looked away from junghoon in an unsuccessful attempt to escape his judgment. he looked back over to him before he let out a sigh of acceptance, reluctantly nodding gently. “yeah i know…” sumin mumbled before the sound of your laughter ringing through the air made him bring his attention back to you.

he smiled at how the sight of your smile filled his chest with warmth before he mindlessly started walking over to you, as if following you was simply second nature to him (and he really would follow you anywhere). he comes up behind you and wraps his strong arms around your waist, the sudden intrusion causing you to jump before you realize who it is and immediately relax. sumin rests his cheek on your shoulder and smiles up at you as you melt into his warmth. “hi.”

you raise your brow at him as the corner of your mouth starts to twitch up into a ghost of a smile. “hi.” you say back, making sumin’s grin grow before he nudges his face into the crook of your neck. you huff out a laugh and bring your hand up to tangle into his hair, lightly scratching at his scalp with your nails. the gentle feeling of your hand in his hair made his body involuntarily relax as he sighed out against your neck, his warm breath sending a shiver up your spine. you turn your attention back to the tv in front of you, but you’re more focused on the way sumin’s warm hands feel pressed against your stomach, his thumb soothingly rubbing back and forth.

“sumin! come help us cut vegetables.” hunter’s voice called out for him from the kitchen, causing you to jump slightly at the sudden sound and causing sumin’s shoulders to slump and let out a loud groan in protest. “less whining, more helping!” sumin sighed before he smiled in defeat, his teeth brushing against your neck as if forewarning what was to come. he quickly tightened his arms around your waist and bit into your shoulder before unwrapping himself from you and running off to where hunter needed him. “hey!” your hand comes up to touch the spot on your shoulder where his teeth had been, a disbelieving smile on your lips. sumin turns, scrunches his nose and sticks his tongue out at you, before turning the corner and disappearing off into the kitchen.

— !

it was one of the very rare times sumin had been granted a break by KQ, and a week long one at that. the company decided that they deserved it after their hard work promoting their recent comeback, but if they asked you, you would’ve said they deserved it always. while some of the boys decided to stay at the dorms, others had ventured their way back home to visit family, sumin being one of them. despite still going to visit him at the dorms often, it never felt like it was enough, so you were over the moon to have him back for a whole week.

the first day or two you had left him alone to spend some much needed time with his parents and brother, but after that he had crawled his way back to you, claiming that it had been too long since he last saw you (two days) and pestering you non-stop to spend the night. ‘just like humans need water to survive, sumins need y/ns to survive,’ is what he had said, which only earned him an eyeroll and light smack to the head.

and so, you both laid side by side in the dark of his room, the only light coming from the moon shining through the window. you laid on your side with your hands rested in the empty space between you two, close enough to feel the heat radiating from each other but not so close that you were actually touching.

you let out a soft giggle, trying your absolute hardest to stay quiet so as not to disturb his family from their sleep. “okay, okay. if you had to be stranded in the middle of space with any of your members, who would you pick?”

“i’d take my helmet off.” you let out a huff of air and smacked him on the arm, making sumin giggle out and put his hands up in surrender.

“okay, okay! i’m kidding! hm… jinsik.” sumin says with a decisive nod of his head. you smile and raise your eyebrows.

“really?” sumin lets out a small ‘mhm’ and nods making you hum in thought and nod slowly. a cheshire like smile grows on your face as an idea starts to form in your head. “that’s not that surprising i guess. if it was between being stuck in the middle of space with me or being stuck in the middle of space with jinsik, who would you choose?”

“you.”

he said the word with so much conviction, as if it was a message written by the hand of god himself and delivered to you through the mouth of sumin. the sturdiness of his word caught you off guard, your smile falling as everything grows quiet between the two of you. the rest of the world seems to fall away as you stare at him and he stares at you. you watch his eyes drift across your face: your eyes, your nose, your cheeks, your lips. you let your own eyes wander down to his lips, swallowing harshly when his gaze snaps back up to your eyes and catches you.

his hand shifts in the bed slightly, as if he was scared that any sudden movements would scare you off entirely; would scare you off eternally. when you don’t do so much as even flinch, he takes a deep, shaky breath as if to steel himself before he stretches out his pinky to gently touch the soft side of your hand. you look down at your hands before looking back into sumin’s eyes, your own pinky moving to gently rest itself over his. you sit like that for a moment, interlocking your pinkies before he gently takes your hand in his, intertwining your fingers together. you let the perfect feeling of his hand pressed against yours sink into your bones, seeping through the marrow to rest gently in the deepest part of your soul, where you decided it would stay protected for the rest of your life.

your heart stutters as he shuffles just that much closer, his eyes drifting back down to your lips. you subconsciously hold your breath in anticipation, the tension between you two looming over like a thick blanket. he blinks a few times, as if shaking a thought out of his head before he drags your connected hands up to his mouth and sinks his teeth into the plush skin on the side of your hand. you let out a gasp and squeal as you try to pry your hand from his assault, your joint laughters replacing the odd feeling that had overtaken the room previously. the tension disappeared, never to be mentioned again that night.

— !

you swung your arms back and forth as a gentle summer breeze blew through your hair, your sandals being held in one hand by the straps. you stared at the sandy ground, watching as the warm water of the ocean reached the tips of your toes only to slink back again as you waited for sumin to show up. you guys had been dating for about a month at this point and had hung out multiple times throughout, but this was your first official date. you had once mentioned to him offhandedly that you would’ve liked to go to the beach with a boyfriend, something you thought he would’ve long forgotten, but he surprised you when he asked if you were free that weekend, telling you he was taking you out on that date.

he had a short practice that morning so he told you to go on ahead and that he’d meet you there straight after. you were strung a bit tight from nerves, so you had gotten there about 15 minutes prior to the meet up time, so you knew you would be waiting a bit, but you still couldn’t help but feel nervous that maybe sumin was going to stand you up. you knew sumin, maybe even more than you knew yourself, so you know deep down he’d never do something like that, but your brain had a funny way of hating you, filling your head with negative thoughts. you gently walked back and forth a few paces along the shore line: what if he never shows up? what if after this date he decides he doesn’t really like me that way? what if he dies trying to meet me here?

“y/n!”

you hear a loud voice call for you from behind, turning to look over your shoulder at the source. and there he was: standing a few feet away at the top of the concrete steps leading to the beach, out of breath and a little sweaty, with a smile you thought burned you brighter than the hot summer sun ever could. sumin— your sumin.

you smile back and raise your hand to wave at him. he bolts towards you, skipping the last few steps of the stairs and stumbling from the unstable grounding of the sand before barreling towards you without any signs of slowing down. you giggle and brace yourself for impact before he reaches you, his arms coming out to wrap around your waist and lifting you up. he stumbles forward into the water, splashing some of it up onto you both, but neither of you can really bring yourselves to care all that much.

he shakes you around a bit before he sets you down, staring at you with a love sick smile as you giggle and fix your now messed up hair. “sorry i’m late.”

you shake your head at him. “you’re not late, i was just early.”

he pouts and affectionately squeezes your cheek between his pointer and thumb. “if i ever make you wait then that means i was late.” you scoff and roll your eyes at him but the sparkle in your eye never leaves. “now c’mon. we have a date to attend to.” he leans his face down close to yours, and you close your eyes and scrunch up your nose in surprise before his hot breath hits your cheek and his teeth sink into the warm skin on your face.

you blink in surprise at him as he pulls away with a teasing grin before it registers in your head what he had just done, your brows furrowing and your plump lips morphing into a pout. you had taken a deep breath in preparation to complain but before any words could be let out, he leaned down one more time to press a quick kiss to your cheek, clasping your hand in his and turning to walk towards one of the little food stands someone had set up along the coast. he stuck his tongue out at you through his teeth as if to say ‘gotcha’, but you couldn’t stop your own happy smile from forming on your face, your cheeks warming up from something other than the sun this time.

the feeling of his hand in yours feels different now than it did when you first took his hand on that playground all those years ago, but just like back then, it still feels like you’re holding something precious.

— !

sumin was currently at practice with the rest of his team members, but you missed him, so you were in his bed doom-scrolling on your phone while you waited for him to finish up with practice so you could surprise him. you check how much longer until sumin said he should be back: 30 minutes. you heave a loud sigh into the otherwise quiet room and drop your phone on the bed before closing your eyes and burying your face in his pillow, letting the scent of sumin’s cologne engulf you.

you’re not sure how long you lay like that, but pretty soon the sound of the door swinging open makes you lift your head from the fabric, looking over to the culprit. in the door frame stands an exhausted sumin, his movements sluggish and heavy. he looks up to find you tucked into his bed, his eyes lighting up when he catches sight of you, the view immediately filling him with new energy.

“baby!” he exclaims, dropping his bag on the floor unceremoniously before launching himself into your arms. you laugh at how he went from zero to one hundred in seemingly a split second as he wraps his arms around you and nuzzles into your neck. your arms come up to rest around his shoulders as your hand tangles into his soft hair. “missed you.” he mumbles out into your skin before pressing a kiss onto your neck, then your jaw, then your cheek, before your entire face has been touched by his lips. you giggle at the vibration of his words against your neck before the source of your laughs turn into the feeling of his lips on you, your hand on his back soothingly rubbing back and forth on his shoulder blades.

he pulls back to look into your eyes with a lovesick smile on his face, but you’re sure you look the same as you gaze into his eyes as well. his hand comes up to cup your cheek, the pad of his thumb rubbing back and forth on your cheek. “tough practice?” you ask, but you already know the answer.

“you have no idea.” sumin replies, the tension in his shoulders relaxing as he huffs out a laugh before he takes your hand in his and brings it up to his mouth. already sensing what was happening, you rip your hand out of his grip with a knowing smile. the action only makes sumin laugh before he leans in to gently bite your jaw. you let out a small noise of protest and gently push and smack at his shoulders, but there’s not any force behind it. you break out into giggles as he bites your jaw again before moving down to hook his teeth into your shoulder.

it sends a shudder up your spine as a breathy, nearly inaudible sigh leaves your lips, the action not going unnoticed by sumin. you feel him grin against your skin before pressing a soft kiss to it, the air in the room suddenly growing thick with tension. “what’s wrong baby?” he teases, his hands sliding down your body before his fingers stop to press into the softness of your waist. he sinks his teeth into your shoulder again, keeping his mouth there for longer this time as he sucks a dark spot into the skin. he licks the bruise lightly to soothe it before moving across to your collarbone to bite into that too.

you let him move his teeth across your skin, dark purple and red spots blooming all across your neck, shoulders, and chest. you can hear and feel him groan into your skin at the taste of your skin on his tongue, your chest heaving with every heavy breath you take. you arch your chest into him as you tilt your head back at the attention he’s giving you before you start to gain some clarity and push against his chest to get him to stop.

“w-wait, what about yechan? he could walk in here at any minute.” he pulls back far enough to look at your face, but close enough to keep you in his arms. you looked like a mess: your hair was disheveled, you were still panting from his ministrations, and you were littered with marks and a thin sheen of spit from sumin’s tongue practically everywhere, but sumin still thought you were the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. despite your distress, sumin seems unbothered at the mention of his roommate, a smirk making its way onto his face, as if he knew something that you didn’t.

“he decided to stay behind to practice a bit more.” he leans into your face, his lips brushing against yours as he spoke. “so we have more than enough time.” he whispers lowly before kissing your lips softly. “to do whatever,” kiss. “we,” kiss. “want,” he takes your lips in his as you let out a weak whine into his mouth before melting into the kiss, wrapping your arms around his neck to pull him closer.

maybe this habit of his wasn’t so bad after all.

[jazzthatonewriterchick]

Siren Song 🧜🏽‍♀️🧜🏾‍♀️🧜🏿‍♀️ (Zoro x Sanji x Black!Mermaid!Reader 18+ One Shot)

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Pairing: Zoro Roronoa x Sanji Vinsmoke x Black!Fem!Reader (Strangers to Lovers)

Synopsis: In which the siren song that you sing in hopes of finding someone to free you from your curse attracts more than one mate when two of the most notorious and wanted pirates come to search your cave after a shipwreck.

Warnings: Smutty Smut; 18+ (MINORS GTFO); Post Time Skip; Strangers to Lovers; Mermaid!Reader; Black-coded!Reader; Interspecies Sex (kinda); Hypnotism; Seduction/Coercion; Dubcon (but enthusiastic consent is later given); Dom!Zoro & Sanji; sub!Reader; Threesome; Mutual Oral (Giving & Receiving; Sloppy Cunnilingus + Analingus; Anal Play/Fingering; Double Deepthroat; Facefucking; Cock Drunk; Reader Cums 2x; Unprotected Vaginal & Anal Sex; Double Penetration; Creampie; Analpie; Happy Ending

Disclaimer: I own none of the characters mentioned in this fic (except for Snowbeard). However, as this is my writing, I do not give permission for my work to be reposted on any other sites that are not from my own accounts. Thank you!

Writer’s Note: I had meant to post this in October for spooky season, but that month just wasn’t making time for me lmaoo. Work has been whooping my whole ass. So I decided to post it now for MerMay! I hope y’all like it! -Jazz

*Note: "Ma chéri" means "my darling" in French!

🌊 🐚🌊 🐚🌊 🐚🌊 🐚🌊 🐚🌊 🐚🌊 

Another lonesome night among the ocean waves. ‘What a fucking curse indeed,’ you think to yourself, solemnly sighing.

You sit on a flat-surfaced rock, perfect for perching, connected to a series of rocks that lead up to a jagged, rocky mountainside where your cave lies. The soft waves, darkened by night and crystalized by the full, bright moon suspended in the sky, crash against the sandy shore leading into the deep, dark, cavernous cave you call your home.

What you wouldn’t give to have a real house with a real, fluffy bed and kitchen. For the past year, you’ve been eating nothing but fish, seaweed, and crabs, which are all good when cooked over a fire, but damn, you wouldn’t mind a bowl of steaming ramen or sashimi. Not to mention a hot shower.

All of which are not available when you’re a mermaid.

Or a mer-person. Whatever you’d like to call it. Either way, you have a fin instead of legs. It’s a quite beautiful fin–a gorgeous shade of turquoise with shimmering scales that look like diamonds in the sun and moonlight. You also have gills on the side of your ribcage, scales that run up and down your arms, and a seashell bra that you made yourself to hold your breasts up.

Otherwise, you’d just be topless. It has been your only attire for a year now.

You don’t even know what your legs look like anymore. Are they the same as they were a year ago? Could you even walk anymore? You’ve been swimming for so long that you’re not sure you’ll even know how to move your legs once this curse breaks…if it ever breaks.

You’ve been trying for so, so long. The only way to do so is to attract a mate from among the sea with your siren song and lure them to you where you’d proceed to persuade them to give you ultimate pleasure.

Or, bluntly speaking, in order to break the curse, you have to sing a song to attract a man and have him fuck you until you cum.

Then, and only then, will the curse be broken and you’d have your legs back. At least that was what the creepy sea witch told you when you went rummaging around in her shit. God, you wish you could turn back time and redo that entire night. That was the night your entire life changed for the worse.

A year ago, you weren’t a half-human half-fish. A year ago, you were a beautiful, strong, curious human woman who sailed across the Grand Blue in search of adventure. You had no family or friends, so why not just explore the world?

You had been sailing for only a couple months when you stumbled across a strange seaside cave. You had parked your boat near the mountainside before grabbing your sword and exploring the many trinkets and curious creatures of the deep inside the cave.

When you first stumbled across the treasure chest sitting on a lone rock there, you knew you shouldn’t have touched it. But temptation and curiosity got the best of you. So you took your sword and cracked it open by wiggling the blade’s tip around in the padlock.

The chest cracked open instantly, revealing various, glittering stones that could have definitely bought you a bigger boat and a sack of food. You snatched it up and prepared to leave with it…only for your legs to give out on you completely.

With a squeak, you tripped and fell onto the sandy ground, the chest falling with you and spilling all of its goodies. “Da fuck?” you whispered, confused. You looked back at your legs and feet, wondering what’s gotten into them, only to find that they have been replaced with a slippery, flopping tail fin. You screamed, your horror echoing throughout the cave.

“Be quiet, bitch!” a raspy voice ordered. Immediately, your lips stuck together like they were made of glue and no matter how hard you tried to move them apart, nothing worked. You still screamed but your voice was muffled. Quickly, you grabbed your sword from the sand and turned to look behind you at the owner of the disembodied voice.

A woman stood there, dressed in black rags that hung down to her cracked feet and blackened toenails. Her fingers were boney, long, and ringed, her skin an ashen gray color. Hair like seaweed hung in her face where you caught the glitter of many piercings and two coal-black eyes that pierced down at you from where you helplessly lay on the sand.

“Stupid girl,” she snarled, walking right by you with her skirts in her hands. “You should’ve known better than to have come here snooping about. Don’t you know that this is the sea witch’s turf?”

She kneeled down before you, stinking of dead fish and something rotten. You covered your nose at the stench, making her cackle. “Not impressed by me?” she asked, grinning at you with blackened teeth. “Well, I’m not impressed by you either. You’re just another stupid human coming to steal my shit.”

She began to pick up each of her stones, muttering to herself about how dumb mortals are and how they’re only driven by greed. You began to wiggle around, trying to make it to the cave’s exit, but your tail only provided you some movement. Other than that, you were completely stagnant.

Once the witch got her treasure chest together, she stared down at you as if she just realized you were there and were nothing more than a pestering fly. “Ah,” she cackled. “You’re probably wondering about the tail, hm?”

‘You think, bitch?’ you wanted to scream at her. Instead, you just glared daggers up at her and pointed your sword at her. She barely flinched.

“Oh, please,” she scoffed. “You can’t do anything to me, little girl. I could make that sword a snake or a fucking balloon animal if I wanted to.” She smirked down at you deviously. “But I think turning your legs into a useless tail suffices. That’s what you get for entering my domain.”

You began to scream at her through your closed lips, trying to talk. She rolled her black eyes at you and sighed, snapping her fingers. Your lips loosened and you could finally speak: “What the fuck did you do?!” you angrily hollered. “Give me back my legs now! How am I supposed to move around with this?” You pointed at the tail.

“Beats me,” the witch passively answered. “You should’ve thought about that before you came here. Now you’ll have no choice but to lay in the bed you made and embrace your curse.”

You froze at the last word, your stomach flipping. “Wait…did you say that I’m…cursed?” You practically whispered the last word. The witch just stared at you, her lips curled into a wicked smirk.

You began to beg, desperate to have your body back. “Please, miss,” you pleaded, tears springing into your eyes. “You have to turn me back. I’m sorry for coming into your home and trying to steal your shit, I swear! I-I was just exploring and–“

“Save it.” The witch put up a hand, silencing you. “There is nothing you can do to sway me now. This curse is to teach you to beware of places you shouldn’t go near.”

You stared down in horror at your tail, wondering how the fuck you got here. “What am I supposed to do now?” you sobbed. “You can’t just leave me like this! There has to be something I can do if you can’t!”

The witch’s smirk faded, her eyes steely. Finally, she sighed. “There is one thing,” she said and you listened intently, desperate to do anything to free yourself from this curse. “You must sing a song,” she explained, “but not just any song. This tune is designed to lure males across the waters to you, wherever you are.”

She then closed her eyes and began to sing the words in a cracked, broken voice:

“Where the river meets the sea, and the Grand Blue stretches,

I call to the night and hope my sweet voice beckons

The love of a man, strong, sweet, and true

In hopes that my yearning will meet and embrace you.

My loneliness calls and my need is taking toll

On my body, my mind, my heart, and my soul.

I wish for a love that will free me from my chains,

And help me find the light in the darkness again.”

“What happens after I’ve lured a man to me?” you carefully asked once her song ended.

You felt as if you just had gotten high and were hallucinating when the witch answered you: “When they come to you, they must take your body as it is and give you ultimate pleasure until you both reach the point of no return. Then, and only then, will the curse be broken and your legs will be given back to you.”

You blinked up at her, wondering if she was serious. “So you’re telling me that if I sing a song and I get a guy to fuck me, I’ll get my legs back?” you raged. “Are you fuckin’ for real right now?”

The witch smiled at you, ever the bitch. “You asked and I answered,” she said. “So if you want your legs back, I suggest you start warming up those vocal cords. Good luck, bitch.”

Then, in a cloud of smoke and the sound of a menacing cackle, she was gone along with her treasure chest, leaving you wiggling and squirming around in the dark with your new limb.

After crying out for the witch for over an hour, you finally took your sword, sheathed it, and dragged yourself to the mouth of the cave before plummeting into the ocean. You were shocked at how well you could breathe underwater as well as swim. Your tail adapted immediately which made it easier to explore the ocean floor. It didn’t take long for you to find the cave you now call your new home.

Since that fateful night, you’ve sat on the same rock and sang the same song. No ships yet. And certainly, no dick that could help lift this stupid curse.

But you won’t give up yet. So just like every dark night, you close your eyes and sing the siren song that the witch taught you all that time ago:

“Where the river meets the sea, and the Grand Blue stretches,

I call to the night and hope my sweet voice beckons

The love of a man, strong, sweet, and true

In hopes that my yearning will meet and embrace you.

My loneliness calls and my need is taking toll

On my body, my mind, my heart, and my soul.

I wish for a love that will free me from my chains,

And help me find the light in the darkness again.”

You stare out in the distance for the sight of a ship penetrating the fog among the ocean. Something. A sign of life. Nothing comes. No one is coming for you. After all this time, you’d think you’d understand that.

The tears that drip down your cheeks are fast and fat, plopping into the water that your fin dips in. You sob into your hands, anguish and anger overtaking you. You should’ve known to have never gone into that cave.

Now your entire life is destined to this: singing a stupid song in hopes that a man will come to you and cum in you. Maybe you had died that night in the witch’s cave and are in some watery version of Hell.

After drying your eyes, you slide down the rock and swim through the calm waters back to your cave filled with items from the human world that you’ve collected over time. They are all that reminded you of the life that is now foreign to you. You then drag yourself to a small bed of seaweed and close your eyes, letting the waves and quiet night lull you to sleep.

When you awaken, it isn’t that long later. Actually, you only have a fifteen-minute nap when you are suddenly awakened by voices. You shoot up from your seaweed bed and squint through the darkness of the furthest reaches of the cave. The parts you haven’t explored in the year you’ve been here. You have no idea what is back there, but nothing has bothered you in the time you’ve occupied this space…until now.

The voices grow from harsh whispers in the dark to loud, clear words that echo along the walls. You quickly reach for your sword and hide behind a nearby rock, listening intently on their conversation:

“Move quicker, Mosshead! Nami and Robin are waiting for me back on the ship and I refuse to make them wait any longer!” This voice is deep, undeniably male, and tinged with a slight accent. Maybe French?

The other voice belonging to another male says something under his breath that sounds like Japanese. “You already made ‘em dinner, you simp. They’re not worried about what you do. Now be quiet before I make you.” This voice is much deeper than the other one and raspy.

Though different, both voices are undeniably and incredibly attractive. Sexy, even. They make something stir in your tummy that you thought was long gone.

“Are you sure even this is the right cave?” the French-accented man asks. “Knowing your sense of direction, we could be walking right into the belly of the beast or something.”

“My sense of direction is just fine!” the deep-voiced man growls. The French man just chuckles. “And yes, it is the right cave. This is the exact place that ship got wrecked a couple months ago. You know, the one Snowbeard’s crew was on?”

Snowbeard. You haven’t heard that name in ages, not since he crashed into your cave anyway. You had just been chilling on a rock when his pirate chip ventured on you, blocking out the sun. The next thing you knew, you were fighting off his big, hulking self, his crew, and the nets they tried to use to capture you.

“Take her alive, boys!” the old, white-bearded pirate ordered, grinning greedily at you. “She’ll be worth more if I get her while she’s breathin’!”

You had fortunately escaped thanks to your quick swimming, but didn’t count on them following you. When you dove under the water near your cave, Snowbeard made a miscalculation and crashed into the side of your cave. No one died though––the captain and his crew had managed to retreat on inflatable boats as the old pirate screamed and proclaimed his revenge on you.

“Stupid bitch!” he angrily shouted, shaking his fists at the blue sky above. “I’ll get her. If it’s the last thing I do, I’ll find that mermaid and take her myself, whether she’s alive or dead.”

That scared you half to death to say the least. Since then, you’ve been wary to come out in daylight and Snowbeard’s things have been left to sink to the bottom of the sea or rust in your cave.

“Sooo why are we in here again?” the French man asks. The sound of footsteps draws nearer, coaxing you farther behind the rock. “To look for some loot and take it back to the ship,” the deep-voiced man replies. “Well, for me, at least. You seem to be more interested in that stupid ass song you heard.”

“And that you heard too!” the French man yelps. "Don’t deny it! You wouldn’t be here with me if you didn’t.” You nearly stop breathing. Song? They heard your song? Could they possibly be here for…you?

The deep-voiced man clucks his tongue against the roof of his mouth and you picture him rolling his eyes. “Whatever. I’m more concerned about all that coin that was rumored to be somewhere in here from the shipwreck.”

You can hear him getting closer, the thud of boots unmistakeable. You clutched your sword tighter, angling it in a way that you’ll be able to thrust and stab if they come near you.

Your eyes flit to the cave wall, seeing their shadows flit in the moonlight. They’re getting closer. They’ll find you.

The French man hums indifferently to himself. “Didn’t that song sound…I don’t know…sad to you?” He asks. "And that voice…”

He pauses, sighing wistfully to himself. “It was so, so beautiful, yet so broken. It was filled with such yearning and need and oh, shit!” His adoring rambling is cut short when he happens upon your rock and gets nothing but a sword in his face.

You can now see that his face matches his attractive voice: a square jaw, plump lips, and a green eye that matches his cropped hair and the pants he wears on those thick thighs; pectorals that push against his cotton shirt where you can see a peek of his chiseled abs and tan skin; big, beefy arms and hands that clench at his sides where his swords are.

His partner is just as alluring. He is taller, skinnier, and shorter than the big, buff swordsman…and also more classier dressed. He wears a suit with slacks that cover his long legs and has blond hair that hangs slightly in front of his face, covering one of his grayish-blue eyes. He is just as handsome with a goatee and a cigarette hanging from between his kissable lips. One of his twirly eyebrows raises in surprise at the sight of you.

Meanwhile, the swordsman chooses violence immediately. “What the fuck?” he bellows, immediately reaching for his sword strapped to his hip, but the blonde French man stops him. “Wait, wait!” he shouts. “Don’t touch her!”

The green-haired swordsman glares at him confusedly. “And what? Let her get us with that big ass sword?”

You continue to clutch the sword out, prepared to fight if necessary despite your tail. “Get back,” you growl. “Both of you stay away from me!” You switch between both of them, baring your teeth as if that will make them beware you even more than the sword in their faces.

The blonde pushes the swordsman’s hand down and backs him away from you. “Okay, okay,” he soothingly says. “We’re staying away, not touching you or being threatening in any type of way. We’re sorry we startled you, miss. I-Is this your cave?” He looks around your home, admiring the trinkets.

“Yes,” you snap. “And you two need to leave now if you know what’s good for you.” The swordsman rolls his emerald eye at you. “Relax, lady,” he growls. “We’re just here to check out this cave for shipwreck stuff. We have no interest in you or your…is that a fucking tail?”

You realize they are both now gawking straight at your tail, their eyes trailing over its scales and the fin that flaps about. You squeak in fear, hiding it behind the rock.

“Why…you’re a mermaid!” the blonde gasps, his eyes turning into literal hearts. “What a beauty you have! But, of course, such a beautiful creature deserves one.” He gives you a dashing smile, putting on the charm. “What is your name, may I ask?”

You weigh your options for a moment, deciding whether or not to tell them your name or anything about you. But they don’t seem too threatening, even the swordsman despite his scowl. “Y/N,” you answer.

The blonde bows to you, comically so. “Lovely to meet you, Y/N. I’m Sanji Vinsmoke and this green-headed bitch behind me is–“

“Zoro,” the swordsman rasps. “Roronoa.”

Your ears perk in recognition at the sounds of their names. “From the Strawhats? Monkey D. Luffy’s crew?”

The duo share glances, Sanji looking happier than Zoro that you know who they are. “I know you. You’re part of the most notorious pirate crew in the world. I’ve heard of what you’ve done for others. You…help people.”

You say this last part to yourself as your head travels farther from your body, recounting all of the stories you’ve heard about the Strawhats. For the past several years, you’ve heard of their doings, helping others from across the sea. You’ve always been so impressed in them, admiring their work and their adventures. Now that you’re here meeting two members, you realize just what can be done to help you…hopefully.

“Well, we’ve traveled a bit and have helped a few enslaved villages,” Sanji chuckles, fixing his tie. He peers down at you, his brows knitted in concern. “Are you in need of some sort of assistance, sweet lady? How can we help?”

Zoro elbows him hard, glaring at him and his pain. “Are you nuts?” he growls. “We barely even know her!” Sanji recovers quickly and elbows Zoro back. “Exactly! So maybe this way, we can get to know her!”

Zoro grimaces at the blonde. “Why? So you can get your dick wet? You can’t even do that on the ship with Nami and Robin.”

Sanji’s face suddenly goes redder than a tomato and you nearly see steam coming out of his ears. “Why, you fucking–”

“The song,” you interrupt them. The duo stop their arguing and stare at you cluelessly. “You heard my song.” The realization clears the fog over their faces. Zoro blinks at you, his face in a permanent scowl. “Wait…that was you? You sang that?”

You slowly nod at him, your heart thundering in your chest. So both of them did hear it! That can only mean…

“I told you it was real, you bloke!” Sanji guffaws, slapping his knee. “You thought I was crazy, but–”

“You heard me,” you interrupt him. You’re breathless, feeling winded as the realization hits you: your help is here. Finally. “You came. Then that means…you’re here for me.” You stare up at your two attractive saviors. They can help you. They have the power to do so. Sanji and Zoro give you similarly confused scowls as if you just spoke gibberish.

“Please,” you beg. You put the sword down and reveal yourself to them from behind the rock. You show them your seashell bra, gills, and tail, watching awe register across their faces. “I need your help. I’ve been stuck with this fucking tail for a year now by this stupid witch and now I-”

“Wait, wait, slow down, darling,” Sanji says. “You need to slow down a bit so we can understand you.” His soothing voice coaxes you to stop and take a breath. “Okay,” you sigh, gathering your thoughts. “I’m sorry. It’s just been so long since I’ve spoken to anyone or told anyone about this.” Zoro quirks an interested eyebrow. “About what?” he probes.

And so, you tell them everything from the very beginning of that fateful, dreadful night. You watch them intently as you give them every detail, right down to the witch’s nasty ass toenails. Confusion, awe, and a twinge of fear register across their handsome faces until you finally finish.

Silence swells around you three for a moment, intensified by the cave. “So you’ve been cursed as a mermaid all this time and you sing that song in hopes that someone will come to free you?” Sanji asks.

You frantically nod, though you leave out one important part: that you have to be fucked in order to be freed. And since there are two males who were lured after your song, that means you’ll have to fuck both…which is fine with you. To be honest, they’re attractive enough that you’d probably enjoy it and you’re so horny that you’d fuck anyone at this point…well, maybe you’re reaching with that. You still have standards, curse or not.

“How do we know you’re not lying?” Zoro asks, giving you an accusatory squint with one eye. Sanji gives him a criticizing glare.

“Why would I lie about this, swordsman?” you scoff. “I’m miserable here! I can’t get back home and I’ve lost my entire life because of this!” You point at your tail that swishes around in irritation and impatience, almost like a cat’s tail.

Zoro purses his lips at you. “Which you got from your own choice, might I add.” You flush with anger. Why is he making this so hard for you? “Why should we help you?” he continues, squinting at you. “We don’t even know you.”

“And yet I could’ve killed you from entering my domain,” you shoot back. The swordsman opens his mouth to argue further, but nothing comes out. You’ve stumped him. Sanji sniggers, earning an elbow in the stomach.

“Listen,” you sigh. “I know this is strange, but I wouldn’t be asking you of this if I didn’t need this. And after we’re through, we can part ways like this night never happened.”

The pirates give each other a look, silently conversing with one another before turning back to you. “Well, how exactly do we free you?” Sanji asks.

Oh, right. You didn’t get to that part. “Um…well…” You nervously bite your lip, trying your best to make this sound as normal and less nasty as possible. “You’d have to…make love to me. Something about accepting my body as it is now to free me.”

As you suspected, both men stare at you like you’re unhinged. “I know this sounds insane and you have every reason to refuse, but I’m so desperate right now!” you practically sob. “I’ve been stuck in this body for so long that I’ve forgotten what it’s like to be human.”

You press your hands together in a prayer, fat tears sticking to your lashes. “Please, help me. Please!” Sanji kneels before you, putting a hand on your shoulder. “Shhh, darling,” he hushes you. “I’ll help you.”

Zoro is just as shocked as you are. “Are you serious?” He asks. The love chef looks over his shoulder at the swordsman, sticking his nose up at him. “Well, you’re not exactly making a move. Now leave so we can have some privacy.” He then turns his attention back to you, his eyes filled with lust and charm.

You once again nervously gnaw on your bottom lip, unaware that the act is getting to Sanji and Zoro. “W-Well…it’d have to be both of you since I lured both of you with my song.”

Sonja’s eyes widen and his cigarette falls out of his mouth. “Wait…him too?! Forreal?! He doesn’t even know what to do with a woman!”

Zoro glares at the love chef. “Oh, and you do?” he barks. “Most women run away from your pervin’ ass!”

“But…are you two up for it?” you ask, looking between both of the sexy strangers. The question seems to stump the two who stare at each other, coming to a decision. Finally, Zoro sighs and lowers his swords. “Only if he don’t get in my way,” he grumbles. “And only if you do whatever I say.”

Your heart leaps with joy though you also feel apprehensive. Having sex with strangers is by far the riskiest thing you’ve done in your chaotic life…but if it means getting rid of your curse then so be it. You’ll do anything to be human again!

The men are just as nervous as you are. Zoro clears his throat as he kneels, a blush on his tan cheeks. “So how do we start this?”

Sanji gives you a wobbly smile, an awkward chuckle leaving his lips. “Pardon my nerves,” he sheepishly says. “I’m afraid I can’t make love to a woman if I don’t really know her first.”

You understand and you have a solution. One of the perks of being a mermaid means you have ‘special powers’. “I can help,” you seductively whisper, your tone change shaking the pirates. “Just look at me.”

They do as you say and stare into your eyes. You lock your eyes with them, only needing a few seconds to peer into their minds and deep inside their souls. You take all of their anxiety, all of their stress, and all of their apprehension. You leave nothing but pleasure, calmness, and an undying need for you. The same need you have for them.

Instantly, the pirates are put at immediate ease, both of them sighing, their muscles loosening and their bodies relaxing. Sanji’s eyes flutter closed, his long lashes fanning his cheeks. “Fuck, that feels…nice,” he sighs. “I feel so calm.”

Zoro nods, his thick muscles and shoulders practically melting. “Mmm,” he hums in agreement. “And so…so…fuck, what did you do to us?” He scowls at you, though it is empty. All you can see is lust and need in his pretty, green eyes. All for you. Just the way you want.

“I just used some hypnotism to relax you and make it so your inhibitions won’t be so constrained,” you explain. To put it bluntly, you made them pitifully horny for you.

While Sanji looks surprised, Zoro is livid. “Hypnotism?!” he bellows. “You hypnotized us?! We didn’t…fuck…w-we didn’t ask you to…goddammit!”

He begins breathing heavily, his cheeks flushed and his bottom lip caught between his teeth. Your powers are working overtime on him. Sanji too! The man looks like he can’t wait to get his hands on you, whimpering quietly to himself.

You put a hand on Zoro’s arm, the slightest touch making him jump. You can feel his muscles pulsing under your fingertips, a testament to how needy he is. “Don’t fight it,” you gently tell him. “It will only make it worse.”

Your eyes flicker down to his lap, seeing a hard bulge already making its appearance. Sanji is just as worse off, his cock pressing against his pants. You lick your lips at the lewd sight of both of their dicks straining and throbbing for you. Soon, you’ll have them all to yourself.

You lean in towards Zoro, your eyes falling onto his plump lips. “Please,” you whisper in the small space between your lips. “Help me.”

Suddenly, Zoro stops fighting and gives in to his inhibitions. His green eye darkens, exciting you. “You want our help?” he mutters. “You’re gonna have to beg a little bit better than that.”

Sanji moves behind you, pressing himself against you so you feel the outline of his cock against your backside. “Listen to him, ma chéri,” he teasingly whispers to you. “And since there’s two of us, you’ll have to listen to me too.”

His arms, less bulky than Zoro’s but sill sinewy with muscle, wrap around you. You quietly gasp, your body coming to life. His touch feels so good. So warm. You need more.

“Please,” you whimper. “Please save me. Free me. Just fuck me.” Zoro inhales, taken by your plea, while Sanji laughs in your ear. “So vulgar,” he tsks. “You should’ve said ‘make love’, darling.” His lips begin to lightly peck your neck and shoulders, his kisses warm and soft.

Zoro presses his calloused palm against your cheek, shivering at the way you press your face into his ouch. “Not for a needy thing like her. She needs something more.”

His thumb moves against your boom lip, playing with it. “Don’t you?” he questions. You desperately nod. “Then we’ll give it to you, but we’ll have to do everything we say, understand?” Again, you nod, pressing a kiss to his thumb.

“And tell us exactly how to please you,” Sanji adds. “I’m afraid I’ve never had the pleasure of making love to a mermaid before, and I’m sure Mosshead hasn’t either.” If looks could kill, Sanji would be dead right now from the way Zoro stares at him. “Can we start by kissing?” you nervously ask.

The pirate duo are happy to oblige. “Come here,” Sanji whispers, turning your face to meet him. But before he can lay one on you, Zoro beats him to the punch and moves his head in front of Sanji’s to lay his lips on yours. “Hey!” Sanji growls.

Zoro ignores him, kissing you passionately, the kiss growing more heated and rougher with every second. You both moan into the kiss, diving deeper and deeper into each other’s lips and the feelings it invokes. His kiss is rough and needy; nasty with the way he swirls his tongue with yours; playful with the way he nibbles on your bottom lip and allows you to do the same to his.

You wrap one arm around his neck, bringing him closer to you. His big hands begin to slide down your body, feeling your scales and gills against your fingertips. Sanji does the same, kissing down your scaly back. They don’t shy away or cringe from your imperfections and differences. They treat you like you’re the sexiest, most precious thing in the world to them.

“Turn around, darling,” Sanji whispers. “I want to taste you too.” You tear yourself away from Zoro, but keep one of your arms locked around his head. You do the same to Sanji, letting him put his head through the hole of your other arm to reach you.

He presses his lips to yours, moaning as soon as your mouths touch. His kiss is less rough and urgent than Zoro’s, but it is just as passionate. He takes his time getting to know your mouth, his tongue asking for permission to slip into your mouth by gently caressing your bottom lip. You part your lips, allowing him entrance, and busy yourself with the sloppy kiss while Zoro kisses your neck.

Their hands on you feel so good yet so agonizing, fire licking across your body. You need more. Anticipation flares inside of you, quickly boiling. You pull away from a panting Sanji, a string of saliva connecting to your bottom lips. “Take off your clothes,” you demand, your voice breathless and needy. “I need you both naked.”

The two men smirk at you, loving how eager you are. “Such a needy lady,” Sanji chuckles, pressing a kiss to your jawline. “You should probably join us though, darling. After all, we can’t be the only ones indecent.”

“How the fuck do you take this off?” Zoro growls, his thick fingers impatiently trying to get your seashell bra off. While Sanji barks that he’ll break it if he isn’t careful, you giggle and show Zoro how to take off your bra.

You let it fall, revealing your perfect breasts and hardened nipples to them. You relish the way they stare at you, eyes widen with lust and awe. “Fuck,” Zoro sighs, bringing his hands up to grasp your titties and give them a squeeze. “You’re fuckin’ perfect.”

“That’s something we can agree on,” Sanji murmurs, unconsciously rutting himself against your backside. “Apologies, darling, but I need to get these fucking pants off.” You smile at him, seductively so. “What’s stopping you?” You purr.

The two men hurry to strip themselves of their clothes, tossing off their shirts and pants, even their shoes and socks. You admire their bodies as they take off each article of clothing, your eyes hungrily drinking in their muscles and sun-tanned skin. When they are finally just in their undies, they wait for you to give them the green light on what to do next though their shafts throb with need.

“Stand up for me,” you softly demand. They scramble to do so, trying to beat each other to the punch. You coax them to lean against the rock behind them before you loop your fingers through the waistband of their briefs. They watch you, cheeks flushed, hearts thumping, their bottom lips caught between their teeth.

You only have to peel the waistbands of their undies down a few inches before both of their cocks are popping out from below. Your eyes widen in delight at their opposing sizes and lengths, already imagining how they’d feel in either of your holes. While Zoro is girthy, thick, and tanner with a beautiful pink head, Sanji is longer and skinnier but curves upward, protruding from a nest of blonde curls.

“Shit,” you moan, hungry for them, your pupils dilating at the impressive appendages. “You both are so pretty.”

Sanji blushes at the compliment while Zoro clucks his tongue indifferently. “A cock can’t be pretty,” he argues. All of that fight dissipates though when you wrap a hand around his shaft, slowly stroking it upward.

“But your cock is pretty, baby,” you protest. “So hard and beautiful…Both of yours are. Let me show you.” And so you begin to stroke both of them at the same time, getting used to how they feel in your hands, your thumbs caressing their heads every time you stroke up.

The pirates softly moan and purr encouragingly at the feeling of your slender, soft, warm hands pumping their cocks, their bodies melting against the rock. “Fuck,” Zoro moans, tossing his head back, exposing his thick neck and Adam’s Apple to you. “Put another spell on me, why don’t ya?”

You giggle, giving his shaft a tantalizing lick that makes him shiver. “Don’t tempt me, pretty boy,” you purr, the nickname damn near making the swordsman combust. His moans are deep and soft, bubbling up from his chest.

Sanji’s moans are louder and sluttier, his voice echoing throughout the cave and bouncing against the walls. “God, darling!” He groans. “Y-Your hand is so…s-so…fuck!”

Zoro laughs at his partner despite his body shivering and trembling at your touch. “Damn, Sanji, it’s only her hand,” he cackles. “Can’t handle it, huh?” The love chef glares at him, sweat glistening on his forehead. “F-Fuck you,” he stammers.

“Uh-uh, baby,” you gently critique. “You should be fucking me.” Keeping your eyes locked with his, you wrap your juicy, soft lips around his throbbing, long cock, finally taking him into your mouth.

Sanji’s eyes grow wide at the sight, barely able to handle it. “Oh, fuck yes,” he groans, his hand moving to your head. “God, ma chéri, you’re so good to me. How is it you’re this good?”

You have no clue being that it’s been a year since you sucked dick. But the act comes so naturally to you. You bob your head up and down his length, gathering spit to help you suck on his cock better. Saliva drips down your chin as you gag all over his cock, pumping him in and out of your mouth.

Sanji watches you from behind the slits of his eyes, his hips struggling to keep still. Noticing, you pop off of his cock for a moment with a gasp, inhaling. “It’s okay,” you whisper. “Fuck my mouth, baby. Take what you need.”

Those words are enough for Sanji to finally break. Once you slide back onto his cock, he grips your hair with enough strength to keep you there but not enough to make you feel trapped. He then begins rolling his slender hips into your mouth, his balls touching your chin as you gag and slobber on his dick. “O-Oh, my God,” he moans. "Ma chéri, your mouth is so perfect.”

Zoro watches his partner fuck you, in awe at how good you take that long dick down your greedy throat. His own cock pulses and throbs in your hand, his hips unconsciously fucking your palm, imagining it to be your pretty face. He finally can’t take the waiting anymore and wraps a hand around his cock. “Ain’t I here too?” He huffs. “C’mon, babe, I need your mouth too.”

You smile despite Sanji’s cock in your mouth, gently tapping the love chef’s hip. He gets the message and slides out of your mouth, his cock now shining and dripping in your spit. “I thought you’d never ask,” you breathlessly reply and envelope him into your mouth finally.

Zoro’s cock is thicker so it stretches your mouth out in a way Sanji’s didn’t. You can feel it as it plunges down your throat, insisting that you take it deeper. Unlike Sanji, Zoro doesn’t wait for you to tell him to fuck your throat. He does it anyway, gripping your hair to give him leverage as he pumps his hips back and forth, sliding his cock against your tongue and hollowed cheeks.

“Goddamn!” Zoro hisses, watching the way his dick disappears and reappears between your plump lips, saliva bubbling at the corner of your mouth as your throat expands around his shaft. “The love chef is right about one thing: your mouth is perfect, baby.”

“I told you,” Sanji hums, lovingly running his fingers through your hair while he slowly fucks your hand that is now sodden wet from your saliva and his dripping pre-cum. “She’s a wonder of the Grand Blue.”

Zoro grunts in agreement, a loud moan leaving his body as your free hand massages his heavy balls. “Oh, you’re a slut,” he breathlessly chuckles. “You can’t help but want all of me.”

“And me!” Sanji whines, quickly becoming more turned on at the sight of the swordsman using your throat like it’s a toy. “God, Zoro, relax. She’s a woman, not a pocket pussy!”

Zoro glares at him, pissed that he is ruining his fun and his concentration. “Tell her that; not me. She’s enjoying this shit.” And you are. Your ‘pussy’ is throbbing from having both dicks all to yourself plus the luxury of having two sexy men fight over you.

Speaking of fighting, Zoro is currently at war with the urge to cum. “God, baby, you’re too good at this,” he groans. “You’re gonna make me cum soon.”

“No, no!” Sanji shouts, prying the swordsman’s hand off of your head so you can retract yourself from his cock. “You can’t cum in her mouth. It has to be inside of her to free her, remember?”

“I know that!” Zoro barks, still laying a hand on your head. “I was only tellin’ her to warn her.”

“Then you’d better switch with me and let me fuck her mouth a little more,” Sanji argues. “You’ve been too greedy. Don’t forget, I’m here too, Mosshead.” Zoro rolls his eyes, not looking too happy at sharing. “Fine, but don’t take so long.”

So the two share you, passing you around like a hot potato, fucking your mouth like it’s no one’s business. They shower you with praise and encouragement, telling you to take them deeper, calling you a “good girl”. Their words make you wetter, your slit throbbing impatiently. You want to get filled the same way your throat is.

“You’re doing so well, taking us at the same time like this, darling,” Sanji lovingly says. “What can we do to repay you for your kindness, hm?” Zoro seems to want to know too because he slips his cock out of your mouth so you can answer, but still ruts himself against your hand.

You don’t hesitate telling them what you need: “I want you to taste me,” you imploringly answer. “I want you to touch me.” The two smile at your neediness, their hands caressing your face and hair.

“Tell us how,” Zoro says. Though it sounds like a demand, you can tell that he is just as eager to please you as Sanji is judging by how quickly he gets on his knees to reach you better. “I’ve never been with a mermaid before.”

You smirk at him, causing him to blush. “Oh, really?” You ask. “I’d expect such a renowned swordsman to have been with plenty of women.” Sanji chuckles, earning a hot glare from the swordsman. “I’m just teasing you,” you giggle, pressing an apologetic kiss to his lips. “I’ll show you both how to touch me.”

Sanji kneels down with Zoro, both of them paying close attention to your anatomy. You lay back against a bed of seaweed and run your fingers over your throbbing slit several inches below your belly button. “Here,” you breathlessly say. “Right here.”

The two stare at it, realizing that it has its own puffy lips that are glistening in your wetness. Sanji, salivating at the sight, struggles to speak. “Is this your…y-your—“

“Pussy,” you finish, giggling at his stutter. “It’s just a slit, but it’s just as sensitive as one. My tail too.” You flap your tail around, pointing at your fins.

“You like bein’ touched here?” Zoro curiously asks. You nod. “On my fin and my scales. Just light stroke them with your fingertips. I’m very sensitive there.”

‘Please touch me there,’ you beg in your head. ‘Touch me anywhere.’ Your body burns like a flame, desperate to be touched, felt, and held. You are touch-starved and the way these men move their hands is making your appetite worse.

While Sanji stays at your side, Zoro moves down to your tail, gently placing it in his lap. “Like…this?” He probes, gently running his fingers down your scales. Your back arches and a whimper leaves your lips, his fingertips leaving a trail of pleasurable sparks in their wake. Zoro smirks at your reaction.

“Oh, she’s a sensitive one,” Sanji coos. “We’ll be careful with you, darling girl. Just relax.”

Then, gently and slowly, the French man begins sucking and licking up, down, and around your slit, exploring your wet folds. A loud moan that bounces off of the cave walls explodes from your body, finally unlocked from the treasure chest within you. “Hey!” Zoro barks. “Why do you get to go first?”

Sanji, pissed at being interrupted, turns to glare at his partner over his shoulder. “You’re down there with her tail, aren’t you?” He scoffs. “Shut up and keep stroking. If you don’t, I’ll take your spot there too.”

He then goes back to making out with your ‘pussy’, giving you gentle strokes with his tongue. You gently place your hands on his face and aim his face downward, his nose rubbing up against your clit.

The love chef hums and moans in pleasure just as you do, loving your taste and how wet you are. Even better are the sounds you make: desperate and beautiful moans, whimpers, and gasps drawn out of your body that echo in the empty sea cave with no one to witness but the two men currently pleasuring you.

Zoro moves his calloused fingers down to your tail fins, gently stroking up and down with his thumb and forefinger. His other one plays with your scales, his fingers tracing them like one would guitar strings. You can only describe the feeling as having a thousand tiny clits that are repeatedly stimulated. It’s a glorious, wonderful feeling.

“Oh, sh-shit!” You gasp, sensitive from such stimulation. “That feels s-so fucking good!”

Zoro picks his head up to intently look at you, a proud smirk playing on his lips. “Yeah?” He teasingly asks, his green eye piercing into yours. “I bet I’m makin’ you feel so good, aren’t I, baby?” He leans down to begin kissing down your scales, his tongue poking between his lips to gently slide down your tail. You damn near cum right there.

Sanji is still becoming acquainted with your slit, his tongue swirling about between your lips and against them while his nose swipes against the hood of your clit. He ticks his hooded eyes up to meet yours, hearts practically floating in them as he stares at your pretty tits and parted mouth as you moan. “And me too?” He asks, desperate to hear you say it. “Am I making you feel good too, darling?”

He does some kind of trick with his tongue that touches some spot inside of you that nearly makes you cum right there all over his face. ”Yes!” You whine. “Yes, yes, right here!”

Your hands grab his blonde hair, fingering his locks and keeping him locked against your cunt. He hungrily eats at you, his hands moving underneath you to hold your ass. When he pulls away, his mouth is sodden wet from you and he eagerly licks at his lips. “You’re so wet here, mon chere,” he gasps, his finger lightly toying with your pussy lips. “I could just slide my finger in.”

You flush at the idea, having already thought about it. “Um…you can,” you shyly say. “But can you both share?”

Zoro and Sanji look at each other, surprisingly not put off with the idea. Zoro quirks an eyebrow at you and you feel his hard cock nudge at your tail. “You want us to eat you out at the same time?” He asks. Sanji tuts, moving over to make room for the swordsman. “So desperate for us.”

And they give you exactly what you want. They take turns eating and slurping your wet pussy slit, licking and sucking your clit while the other fingers your slit, hooking either one or two upwards to stroke your G-spot. Sanji’s fingers are slender and long, perfect for piano, while Zoro’s are thick and fill you up.

They each offer copious amounts of saliva, spitting on your pussy even when the other has their fingers in you. But neither seem to care, too focused on making you lose your everloving mind.

And you are. Broken moans and high-pitched whines leave your lips, your hands gripping their hair and any part of their bodies for dear life. “Oh, my God,” you moan, your eyes rolling to the back of your head. “You’re both so good at this!”

Sanji’s mouth leaves your clit to leave kisses on your breasts instead, his hands groping what his mouth isn’t stimulating. You go to rub your clit, but Zoro firmly places your hand on your stomach. His eyes are fierce and stern, exciting you. “Uh-uh,” he firmly says. “Don’t touch her. She’s ours right now.”

‘She’s ours’. Your pussy is theirs. You feel yourself shiver, enjoying the idea of you being theirs.

Sanji presses a kiss to your panting lips, sucking gently on your tongue. “Put us where you want, darling girl,” he implores. “Show us what you need.” And when he goes back down to join his partner in feasting on your cunt, you push his head down onto your slit while Zoro finger fucks you.

The two don’t switch this time, probably because your moans have grown louder, signaling your end nearing. You can feel it the more Zoro’s thick digits curl up to fuck you, emitting lewd, wet sounds as they swirl in your wet slit. You can feel it the more Sanji makes love to your clit, swirling his tongue around and around. That knot in your core tightens with each second, threatening to snap.

“Oooh, fuck!” you croon. “Shit, you’re gonna make me cum! I’m gonna…gonna…!”

You can feel it. Just something more. A little more to give you that push. The swordsman is that push, his rough, velvety voice reaching your eardrums to encourage you to finally let go.

“Cum, baby,” Zoro moans. “Give it to us. We’ve got you.” Sanji hums in agreement into your slit, his tongue moving in perfect time with Zoro’s thrusting fingers.

Finally, you break and with a loud, ear-shattering moan, you cum all over them. Their mouths, their fingers, and their chests become covered in your cum…or squirt when you finally realize that you’re squirting. You didn’t even know mermaids could squirt!

Zoro shoves Sanji out of the way to get himself a taste, but Sanji is too busy laughing with joy at your loud orgasm to get mad. “My, what a voice!” He laughs. “Such lungs on you, ma chéri. I suppose you needed that?”

You slowly nod, coming down from your high. “That was amazing,” you sigh. “Thank you.”

You stare at both of them with such gratitude that Zoro blushes despite having just swallowed your squirt. He awkwardly wipes his mouth with his hand, his cheeks red. “Of course,” he says, clearing his throat. “So, uh…do you still want to—“

“Yes,” you giggle, sitting up and staring into their eyes. “Yes, I do. I don’t care who goes first; just as long as you’re both in me.”

Your libido is still high as is your need. You want both of them on you, in you, now. At this point it’s less about the curse and more about wanting to be filled and fucked by these two sexy idiots.

The two stare at each other, silently trying to come to an agreement. “I go first,” they say in unison then immediately become irked. “Why you?” They ask each other, quickly growing angrier at the fact that they share the same brain.

“Because you had her mouth first,” Zoro snaps. “Ya didn’t even ask me if I wanted first dibs!” Sanji opens his mouth to retort but then stops, pausing to think it over. “He does have a point,” you mutter.

“Yes, but…you’re too big!” Sanji argues, motioning to Zoro’s big body. “You might crush her or be too rough! You can’t just fuck her like you did her mouth. You need to take your time to get to know her body.” The two begin to go back and forth like two kids, tossing in immature insults and stupid nicknames.

As hilarious as the scene is, you can feel your slit throbbing impatiently and your need quickly growing to new heights. “Boys,” you firmly say, grabbing their attention. “Instead of fighting, why don’t you both just fuck me together?”

The duo blink at you, confused. “How?” Sanji asks, perplexed. “You mean…one gets your pussy and the other gets your…oh.” When he realized where that other dick is going, his cheeks grow hot. “What?”

Zoro snaps. “What does she mean?”

Sanji sighs and whispers to him, making the swordsman turn as red as a tomato. “Um…are you okay with this?” The blonde nervously asks.

You’ve never been more okay with something in your life, you realize. You know in your heart of hearts that these two will take care of you, casual sex or not. “I wouldn’t be asking if I wasn’t, pretty boy,” you giggle. “Are you okay with it?”

You look between the two, searching their faces for apprehension or any signs of second guessing. Despite their obvious nervousness, Zoro shakes his head, a determined scowl on his face. “Well…I suppose it is fair,” Sanji mutters. “We’ve shared her since the beginning, so why not continue?”

He turns to Zoro, puffing out his chest. “I-I’ll take the back if you want the front. Just as long as you don’t hurt her and you’re not too rough!” The swordsman rolls his emerald eyes, shoving the blonde out of the way. “Oh, shut up,” he huffs.

You suddenly find yourself being scooped up bridal style by Zoro, your tail flapping happily at the sweet act. You giggle and wrap your arms around his thick neck, leaning your head into his chest. He leans against a rock, keeping you against him, while Sanji stands behind you, his cock bobbing against your ass. Feeling yourself be sandwiched between both of them, your hands running over their muscles and abs, is enough to make you reach climax.

You keep your arms locked around Zoro’s neck, his face just inches from yours. “Is this okay?” He asks in your ear.

You nod, staring into his eye which reminds you of a vast, lush forest. It softens, flickering down to your lips. “You’re so beautiful,” he whispers. “I promise I’ll make you feel so good.”

Hearing such a sweet promise coming from the rugged pirate invokes something with you that feels like butterflies. You smile and softly peck his lips. “I’ll hold you to it, swordsman,” you whisper against his lips.

Zoro smiles and gives you another chaste kiss before moving between your bodies to rub your clit. Once you begin to moan is when he slowly slides his cock against your sodden wet slit…and then the tip slips in. You both gasp at the contact, sharing pants and heated breaths. You begin to roll your hips against his, slowly taking him inch by inch inside of you.

“That’s it, mama,” he coos. “Nice an’ slow…nice a-and…fuck!” He squeezes his eyes shut, his pretty face screwed up at the pleasure your silky, spongy, wet walls bring him.

You’re feeling it too—his girthy cock makes him a lot thicker which causes your walls to stretch around him. It becomes easier the more he moves, wetness secreting from the both of you to act as lube.

“Look down, baby,” he whispers. Look at that pussy takin’ me.” You do and you see what has him so pent up: the way his thick cock plunges in and out of your slit is so lewd yet so sexy. The first cock you’ve taken in a year!

“Wow,” you say in astonishment. Sanji watches too, unconsciously rutting his cock against your backside.

“Keep going,” you plea, gripping the swordsman’s shoulders. “Fuck me, Zoro. Please.” He doesn’t need to be told twice. Immediately, he grabs your hips and proceeds to fuck you, practically bouncing you up and down his cock, invoking broken moans and gasps from your pretty lips.

Zoro watches your face change expressions, his lips sexily pressed together at the immense pleasure he feels whenever your tight, wet hole throbs and squeezes around him. He quickly loses control, letting go for you. “Oh, God,” he moans. “Fuck, you feel so fuckin’ good!”

He does too. The pleasure is blinding, wiping your mind blank. Almost enough to forget about the love chef. “Sorry to interrupt,” Sanji chuckles. “But you’ve got another cock to take care of, darling…after I prep you a bit back here.”

He presses his index finger to your lips, coaxing you to suck on it. You hungrily do so, stimulated by Zoro’s cock as he slowly fucks you, pistoning himself into you.

You then feel Sanji’s finger gently pry your cheeks apart and probe your asshole. You gasp into Zoro’s mouth as you feel the French man’s digit lightly trace your asshole, keeping his touch gentle and soft. “Good girl,” he whispers. “Does it feel good?”

“Y-Yeah,” you exhale, struggling to even speak from the pleasure. Though it’s a foreign feeling, it makes the pleasure of Zoro’s thrusts feel even better.

Then, slowly, Sanji sinks his finger into your asshole, emitting a moan from you. “That okay?” he asks. “Not too much?”

“N-No!” you whimper. “Fuck, it feels so good!” Your body turns into mesh, your head lulling onto Zoro’s shoulder, your eyes fluttering shut. It’s all too much to take.

Zoro tightens his grip on you, still pistoning into you. “Such a big girl takin’ us both like this.” He presses a soft kiss to your cheek. “Jesus Christ, Sanji, are you done yet?”

He glares at the blonde who has yet to slip his dick inside of you yet. “Hold on!” He barks. “I need to make sure she’ll be okay to take me!” But you know you are. Your asshole is as open and stretched as it’s going to be. Plus, your want is increasing and so is your need. You need, yearn, to be filled.

“Sanji, please,” you moan. “I need you.” You reach your arm back for him, hooking it around his neck to pull him flush against you. He holds your ass and massages it as you push back against him, rubbing his cock between your asscheeks. The act is so slutty and so unlike you, but you can’t help you. You need him too.

The blonde wraps one around his cock and brings it to your asshole, gently pushing his hips toward you. A gasp leaves his hips as soon as that tight muscle squeezes around him. You push back, taking more of him in you while Zoro pauses, letting you get used to both of them.

It’s a weird, strange feeling to be filled at both ends…but it also feels amazing. You can feel them touching every sensitive part of you that makes you see the entire galaxy behind your eyelids.

“Easy now, darling,” Sanji pants. “Take your time. Just meet me halfway.” You continue to do so, pushing back while he pulls forward. You toss your ass back into him, taking him deeper and deeper with every inch, forcing slutty moans and whimpers out of Sanji’s mouth. “Fuck,” he moans. “Fuck, ma chéri, you’re so tight here!”

Zoro smirks at the blonde over your shoulder. “Can’t handle it, Vinsmoke?” He sniggers. “Is that ass too tight?” Even though he’s the main one struggling not to move, his entire body trembling against you.

Sanji scowls at him. “Don’t be so vulgar,” he growls, but you can feel him throb inside of you. “Just shut up and fuck her.”

Shockingly, Zoro listens and the two begin to slowly move at the same time, falling into a rhythm that has you moaning and calling to God, your sounds bouncing off of the cave walls.

They both push in and pull back at the same time, each of them filling your holes which pushes you toward your second orgasm with every push and pull. Zoro presses his lips against your ear, his hips slamming into yours. “Thatta girl,” he praises. “Take those fuckin’ cocks. Such a good little slut, y’know that?”

You wordlessly whine at his degrading words, shuddering helplessly between them. The swordsman grips you to him, rubbing his pelvis up against yours. “Come the fuck here,” he growls. “You hear me talkin’ to you?”

“Y-Yes!” You whine. “I-I’m sorry! Fuck, Zoro, yes, right there!” Your rosebud sings with pleasure as Zoro continues to rub against it, your entire body coming to life from what you’re feeling.

Sanji caresses your face, turning you to face him. “You have the most beautiful voice, ma chéri,” he lovingly sighs. “I want to hear more of it. Will you sing more for us?”

As if persuading you, he rolls his hips in a way that makes both of you moan. “Do it,” you plead. “Fuck me.”

They do just that, taking you on the ride of your life, fucking you into oblivion. And their dicks aren’t the only things responsible. Every time their lips touch some part of your body—your neck, shoulders, lips, breasts—, every time their hands grope you, every time you grip or stroke their hard muscles and warm skin, you can feel that knot in your core begin to tighten as much as your wet slit and asshole do around their cocks.

At some point, their thrusts become faster and harder, keeping you squeezed between them and holding you up for better access to do as they want to you. They fuck you like there is no tomorrow, letting out loud moans and grunts that make you wetter, causing their cocks to become even slipprier so it’s easier to slide in and out of you. You can’t believe how good you feel, let alone how long it took for this to happen.

Zoro gives you an open-mouthed kiss, playfully nibbling on your bottom lip. “This enough for you, mama?” He whispers. “Are these dicks good enough for you?” Your tongue is too heavy to speak, the pleasure stealing your voice from you. “Aw, the poor baby can’t even speak,” he laughs.

Sanji is just as fucked up though, his hips moving on their own as he grips you to him. “Fuck, I’m close!” he moans. “I can’t wait to fill you up, darling. I’m gonna make you all mine.”

Zoro scowls at him questionably. “Yours?” He huffs. “What about me? You think your load is gonna be bigger than mine?”

The French man raises an eyebrow, smirking challengingly at him. “Let’s find out. We’ll see who can make her cum the quickest and fill her up the most.”

Always up for a challenge, Zoro gives him a smile. “You’re on.” He then locks his arms around you, keeping you dangling off of the floor. “Hold on tight to me, mama. This ride is gonna get bumpy.”

You tighten your arms around him, anchoring yourself to him while Sanji locks his arms around you. “Let us know if it’s too much, okay?” he whispers.

You nod, leaning your head back against his shoulder. You give yourself to them and they give their all to you, pounding your pretty pussy and even prettier asshole until you’re sobbing, fat tears glistening on your lash lines. Your tail fin curls in ecstasy the way your toes would and your hands move to grip your men’s hair, overcome with pleasure.

“O-Oh, fuck!” You sob. “Yes, yes, yes, just like that! I-I’m gonna cum!” You can feel it building with every passing second; with every drop of wetness that dribbles down your inner thighs and coats your slits. “Me too,” Zoro huffs. “You’re just too goddamn tight, baby.”

Sanji only gives you a wordless, slutty moan, unable to speak. But he doesn’t have to. You can feel both of their cocks throbbing and swelling inside of you, their thrusts becoming more urgent and much harder than before.

Tapping into your powers once more, you look both of them in the eye, keeping them close, wanting to be one. “Cum with me,” you demand. “Both of you cum with me now. Fill me up.”

After a few more sloppy, stuttering thrusts, the pirates give you what you want. They cum inside of you up at the same time, filling you up to the brim with two cream pies that knock the air out of you. Their slutty, loud moans and grunts trigger your own orgasm. With a shiver and an earth-shattering scream that nearly shatters the pirates’ eardrums, you finally combust and cum all over Zoro’s cock while your asshole clenches around Sanji’s.

You feel like you’re soaring for just a few short, blissful seconds, flying through the highest clouds and taking the pirates with you. They keep you lifted up and against them as you shudder and writhe in pleasure, riding out the hardest orgasm you’ve had in a year.

It makes you dizzy and your head goes completely blank. It takes every single ounce of energy out of you, so much so that you go limp when it fades. You lean your head against Zoro’s chest, suddenly exhausted.

At some point during your mind-blowing orgasm, you pass out. You don’t remember much about what happened after you had your second nut. But when you awaken, it is dawn and you find yourself still sandwiched between a sleeping, naked Zoro and Sanji. The swordsman has his muscular, scarred back to you while the love chef is pushed against your back, acting as the big spoon.

The morning sun peeks through the cave, turning the soft waves that crash against the shore a beautiful hue of gold. The sunlight illuminates off of your naked bodies, acting as a physical representation for afterglow: your arms, your faces, your legs…

Legs?

To your utter shock and joy, you look down to see that you no longer have a fish tail but your legs. Your beautiful, gorgeous, human legs. You sit up between the pirates and wiggle your toes just to see if you can do it. Your little piggies listen to your order, your toe bones wiggling about.

“Oh, my God!” You shout, unable to keep your happiness at bay.

Your shout alarms the pirates and they quickly awaken. Zoro immediately grabs a sword while Sanji panickingly looks around for danger, his blonde hair a sex-ruined mess. “What, what?!” He gasps. “What is it?!”

You take a moment to gather your words as tears begin to push past the dam of your eyes. “My legs!” You sob. You show the duo your legs, happily moving them around. “You broke the curse! It worked!”

Zoro gapes down at your legs, even gently stroking your skin from your thigh to your knee. Sanji breaks out into an astonished smile, his gray blue eyes wide with wonder. “My God,” he whispers. “It was real.” You nod, unable to keep yourself from sobbing with joy. You can’t believe it worked!

The swordsman looks pleased that everything worked out for you. “I guess our work here is done,” he says. “We should be leaving now.” To your confusion and shock, the two leave you sitting there and begin to get dressed. “Wait, you’re leaving?” You ask. “Right now?”

Zoro stares at you as if it should be obvious while he puts on his pants. “Well, yeah,” he says. “I mean, we gave you what you wanted, right? We’re not needed anymore.” He shrugs on his boots with the quickness, still having not put on his shirt. “But it was…really nice.” He clears his throat, awkwardly looking away from your naked form.

Sanji is quicker putting on his clothes, staring at you somberly. “Better than nice, ma chéri,” he sighs. “You were amazing. But our time here has come to pass. Our captain will be looking for us, so we should—“

“Don’t go!” you blurt, grabbing Sanji’s hand. The love chef looks taken aback at this. Zoro is too, looking at you with a startled expression. You’re just as taken aback at yourself and the sudden desperation you feel watching them go. Why do you feel this way? After all, you did tell them you could depart after you got your legs back.

And while you are happy to have your beautiful, human limbs back, you’re not happy to see the pirates go. They made you feel safer than you’ve felt your whole life. They accepted you, helped you at your darkest hour, fucked you stupid, and came inside of you without even knowing you. All to help you! How can you give them up?

You flush embarrassingly and release Sanji’s hand, instead using your arms to hug yourself, covering your naked breasts. “I-I mean…you don’t have to leave so soon. I really enjoyed your company, regardless of the sex.” You look at each other from under your lashes, bashful but honest. “I wouldn’t mind y’all stickin’ around for a bit.”

Zoro and Sanji stare at you in shock, obviously not expecting this proposal from you. Then their gazes soften, filling you with butterflies that nervously flap and flutter about. Before any one of them can respond, a sheer, loud scream coming from deep within the cave stops you:

“Zoro!” Luffy calls. “Sanji, are you in here?!”

Immediately, you crawl behind a rock, frightened. “We’re coming!” Sanji shouts. “Luffy, don’t move!” You hear other voices too, unfamiliar and scary to you. You haven’t been around other help in a year.

Zoro walks toward you and kneels with you behind the rock, his eye sparkling with mischief and gentleness. “I wouldn’t mind that either if you don’t mind our crew.”

He hands you over his shirt, holding it out for you. “But I will warn you: they’re annoying and unhinged, but you won’t find better people than them.” He gives you a crooked smile that makes you trust his words.

“You want me to join your crew?” You ask in disbelief. The swordsman passively shrugs, ever the emotionally constipated one. “If you want,” he bashfully asks. “I think Luffy will like you. He likes everybody…mostly.”

Sanji chuckles, kneeling beside you. “What do you say, darling?” He asks, a sparkle in his eyes. “You up for some more adventure?”

You take a moment to stare into the men’s eyes, seeing nothing but a generous nature that soothes your fears and leaves you feeling giddy, happy, and safe.

“Hell yes,” you giggle. You take Zoro’s shirt and put it on, feeling like you’re wearing a dress with how big it is on you. You then wrap your arms around both men’s necks and bring them in for a soft, thankful kiss. “Lead the way, boys,” you purr.

Joyfully, Zoro scoops you up into his arms while Sanji fusses about not being able to hold you, much to your humor, as you’re carried away to meet your new crew. Suddenly, the fog that the witch’s curse created is gone, leaving your present and your future looking brighter than ever.

And all because of that stupid ass song.

THE END.

[bloopitynoot]

17 Novel Canon Cultivation WangXian Fics

This is rec list two for @yiling-laozu-is-loml

Here are some of the parameters of the list:

Cultivators in ancient China based WangXian fics

Long form fics only (I tried to stick to 50K plus - most are longer- and all are completed fics).

Canon based on novel only! No yin iron plot CQL plotlines (though some of these do include some donghua but minimal)

BottomXian if applicable only

can include: canon divergent, fix-its, and time travel (I included all of the above)

I'm not going to lie I had to cut out so many of my favs because of the Yin Iron plot BUT I still think I put together a stellar list.

A lot of them are fix-its some are totally unique in their plots and I have a few Yilling-Wei sect fics that I adore and hope you do too!

Enjoy the list!

1 no one ever said the single-plank bridge had to be walked alone (174009 words) by rosemu

Chapters: 24/24 Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Relationships: Lan Zhan | Lan Wangji/Wei Ying | Wei Wuxian, Jiāng Yànlí/Jīn Zixuān (background), Mò Xuányǔ/Xuē Yáng | Xuē Chéngměi (Background), Sòng Lán | Sòng Zǐchēn/Xiǎo Xīngchén (background), One-Sided Xiǎo Xīngchén/Xuē Yáng | Xuē Chéngměi - Relationship Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Yílíng Wèi Sect, Fix-It, Somebody Lives/Not Everyone Dies, Lan Zhan | Lan Wangji Stays at the Burial Mounds, Fluff, Angst, Domestic Fluff, Canon-Typical Violence, Found Family, Slow Burn, not the slowest burn but they do take their sweet time, LWJ and WWX get to be Dads together, the healing power of homoerotic flute/guqin duets, EXTREMELY self-indulgent, Happy Ending Summary: “Have you heard? The esteemed Second Jade of Lan, Hanguang-jun, has defected from the Lan sect! He’s living at the Burial Mounds now apparently.” “What?! That scourge, the Yiling Patriarch, has managed to corrupt even the most ideal, upstanding cultivator. How truly terrifying!” Lan Wangji learns to follow his heart over the rules just a little earlier and it changes some things.

NOTES: A fix-itish but also Yilling-Wei sect fic in which Lan Wangji just never leaves the burial mounds after his visit? So many things are fixed with the second jade just kind of always being by Wei Wuxian. This fic has wholesome energy and found family vibes.

2 Cultivating immortality (230949 words) by KizuKatana

Chapters: 44/44 Rating: Explicit Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence, Rogue Cultivator Wei Ying | Wei Wuxian, Pining, Mutual Pining, Wei WuXian low self-esteem, BAMF Wei Ying | Wei Wuxian, BAMF Lan Wangji, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, not sure if this qualifies as fix-it but that was my emotional need/intent, Hurt/Comfort, unreliable narrator (wwx's self image is…), sect wars happening, Canon typical darkness, demonic cultivation descriptions in detail, self-indulgent exploration of the creation of demonic cultivation and how it changed wwx, JC and lwj are reluctant (VERY RELUCTANT) allies, Madam Yu and Lan Qiren are made to face up to their faults, Jiang YanLi is badass (fight me) though not in terms of cultivation strenght, JC gets a chance to redeem himself, Found Family, Top Lan Zhan | Lan Wangji/Bottom Wei Ying | Wei Wuxian, First Time, novel canon relationship dynamics, Please do not post to GoodReads or any other site Series: Part 1 of Cultivation partners universe Summary: “A weapon is not the same as a spouse, even if that weapon is powerful.” The words had barely left Wei Wuxian’s lips when he found himself slammed against the trunk of the nearest tree, Lan Wangji’s hands gripping painfully tight around his shoulders, practically lifting him from the ground. “Wei Ying is not a weapon!” Lan Wangji bit out. Wei Wuxian had said many things that had angered the illustrious Second Jade in the past. When he had been in Cloud Recesses as a youth, it had been Wei Wuxian’s favorite hobby. But he realized had never managed to truly enrage Lan Wangji with anything he had said until this moment. - - - - The Lan sect has been putting pressure on Lan Wangji to find a cultivation partner. They don't like the one he chooses.

NOTES: Baby WY has a journey to discover his self worth in this fic. The canon divergence happens after he's kicked out of cloud recesses and the subsequently kicked out of the Jiang sect via Madam Yu. There is a rogue cultivator WY plotline paired with Sect pressure for Lan Zhan to get a cultivation partner and the stubborn man vs oblivious man 230k is fantastic.

3 like speaking to my heart (613672 words) by SnowshadowAO3

Chapters: 42/42 Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Daemons, Slow Burn, Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Canonical Character Death, Some people live!, And some people still die in this fic it's just a matter of who STAYS dead and who is really dead ;), additional warnings in specific chapters, if you don't know what daemons are that's ok because I explain it in the author's note, also by slow burn I VERY much mean slow burn Summary: Wei Wuxian is staring up at the sky, thinking idly about the taste of Emperor’s Smile on his tongue, when Suibian jumps full force onto his stomach and cries, “A-Xian, don’t be mad!” The sheer force of her pounce knocks the breath out of him. The resulting pause is just long enough for Jiang Cheng, who up to this point has been laying rather peacefully next to him, to shoot up and demand, “Oh great, what did you do now?” To be fair, the question isn’t exactly unwarranted. Suibian looks an absolute mess: twigs stuck in her fur, dirt smeared across the white fluff of her underbelly. She’s panting up a storm, little heh heh heh gasps that haven’t edged into her normal high-pitched laughter. When her ears press back against her head, she could almost pass for pitiful. “Bichen hates me.” Wei Wuxian’s first thought is Why would Lan Zhan’s daemon hate you?, but it’s followed quickly by remembering exactly where he is, how little trouble he’s caused today, and the fact that he hasn’t seen Suibian for a few minutes. A grin spreads across his face. (Or: The most important name a cultivator will ever pick isn’t for their sword. It’s for their daemon.)

NOTES: This is still ancient china cultivators but has a little bit of au due to cultivators having daemons. It loosely follows the book plotline as well but is canon divergent. I honestly did not expect to love this 600k fic so much but it had my HEART. I fell for the plot as well as the sentient daemons and the role they play in helping these two sort out their feelings.

4 From Whence You Came (79393 words) by kanzaki19

Chapters: 12/12 Rating: Mature Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Relationships: Lan Zhan | Lan Wangji/Wei Ying | Wei Wuxian, Jiang Yanli/Jin Zixuan, Jiang Cheng | Jiang Wanyin/Wen Qing Additional Tags: Time Travel Fix-It, Night Hunts (Modao Zushi), Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Time Travel, Fix-It, Canon-Typical Violence, Time Travel, Happy Ending, Angst with a Happy Ending Series: Part 1 of Second Chances Summary: Do not take those you love for granted, tell them you love them. You may never see them again. After being torn from the life he has lovingly settled in, Wei Wuxian finds himself back in Qiongi Path. Faced with immediate threats he grabs hold of every opportunity to better the lives of his family.

NOTES: A solid fix-it from Qiongi Path. WY dies and wakes up mid battle with enough time to save Zixuan. This changes the timeline for the best but at the expense of their established relationship in the alternate timeline. A little bit of mourning there, but still a happy ending though!

5 my life's journey is far from over (148672 words) by thelastdboy

Chapters: 40/40 Rating: Explicit Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Madam Lan Lives (Modao Zushi), Jiang Yanli Lives, Wen Qing Lives (Modao Zushi), Post-Sunshot Campaign (Modao Zushi), POV Wei Ying | Wei Wuxian, Slow Burn, Yiling Laozu Wei Ying | Wei Wuxian, Recovery, Hurt/Comfort, Healing Is a Slow Process, therapy is good actually, All women deserve better, Modern AU but not too modern™, mlm/wlw solidarity, the mortifying ordeal of discovering you're into bdsm while you're caught up in political intrigue, Kink Negotiation, Kink Exploration, Somebody Lives/Not Everyone Dies, Wei Ying | Wei Wuxian Lives, Mental Health Issues, References to Depression, Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Burial Mounds Ensemble as Family (Modao Zushi), Single Parent Wei Ying | Wei Wuxian, Selectively Mute Lan Zhan | Lan Wangji, Eventual Smut, Light Dom/sub, Lan Zhan | Lan Wangji/Wei Ying | Wei Wuxian Get a Happy Ending Series: Part 2 of the journey is far from over Summary: No one knew that Wei Ying survived the Burial Mounds. No one knew that it was his music that flooded the battlefields of the Sunshot Campaign with corpses. No one knew just how much he had given for his family. Now the war was over and Wei Ying found himself in Yiling once again and after spending years surrounded by nothing but death, he had to learn what it feels like to be alive again. He was dead to the world and for the first time wondered what it would be like to live for his own sake. Or: Wei Ying meets Lan Zhan after the war, both broken and searching for purpose. Wen Qing will do everything to save her little brother. Jiang Yanli learns that not every problem can be solved by soup alone.

NOTES: The story of what happens the war if no one knew that Wei Ying survived AND won the war for them. This has such a beautiful relationship between Lan Zhan and Wei Ying and features a jailbreak of (alive!) Madam Lan. It's healing and wonderful, but also expect the angst. Fear not though, it has a happy ending! BONUS: it does have a prequel which is part 1 in the series. Also very good but Lan Wangji POV and Wei Wuxian is presumed dead.

6 Vow (216627 words) by draechaeli

Chapters: 47/47 Rating: Explicit Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Mainly Novel with a few CQL and Donghua bits, Somebody Lives/Not Everyone Dies, Temporary Character Death, WWXs dead for a lot of this, but he’s having fun, BeliefGod!WWX, Original Children Characters – Freeform, Adoption, Adoption but WWX birthed them all, Pregnancy Kink, Mpreg, minor male lactation, Consensual Non-Consent, Light Bondage, easy to skip nsfw chapters, brief crossdressing, Non-Graphic Rape/Non-Con, because JGS, Mentions Canon Typical Incest, Canon Typical Violence Summary: “If you’re not good the Yiling Patriarch will steal you in the night!” It was never true, in fact the first child stole herself, the second was gifted, the third begged. By the time people realised that all the homeless children of Yiling, and all the daughters about to be sold had disappeared, it became, “If you’re unloved the Yiling Patriarch will save you.” Sometimes when you make a vow not even death can release you; as Xian-Gege the Eliminator of Evil, the Protector of the Weak, and the Saviour of Children finds out.

NOTES: A fun God!WWX fic in which the vow that WY made and the belief in the Yilling Patriarch brings him back. Such a solid fic, I love the way that WY goes from hated demon to loving deity of children, women, and those in need. He does die in this and is mostly dead for a good portion of it but it is worth it for the reunion and wholesome hoard of children he collects.

7Propagate Understanding (175626 words) by draechaeli

Chapters: 34/34 Rating: Explicit Additional Tags: Somebody Lives/Not Everyone Dies, Pregnancy Kink, Consensual Non-Consent, Light Bondage, Adoption, Adoption but WWX birthed them all, Mo Xuanyu Lives, Mò Xuányǔ has an arc, Original Children Characters - Freeform, Babies for Everyone, Crossdressing, Temporary Character Death, easy to skip nsfw chapters, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence Summary: A-Yuan was birthed by Wei WuXian, A-Yuan called Lan WangJi ‘Father’, A-Yuan had Lan WangJi’s nose! Was it the time that Wei WuXian took his forehead ribbon at the Wen Discussion Conference Archery Competition?—he’d have to ask Brother. As a physician, Wen Qing has to suffer fools constantly; if Lan WangJi is determined to be Wei WuXian’s baby daddy, she wasn’t going to stop him, especially if it could save them all. And if it leads to some misunderstandings on the topic of marriage and propagation—well, it is not Wen Qing’s fault if Lan WangJi became the world’s best and worst matchmaker, making sure that children everywhere had parents.

NOTES: This fic premise is absolute crack! and is one of my favourite niche crack! fic themes. In which the joke "I birthed him myself" is taken literally and the cultivation world truly believes the Yilling Patriarch and Hanguang-jun had a child together. So good, bless Wen Qing in this fic honestly.

8 Bring Your Wonder (Lose Your Faith) (75406 words) by kianspo

Chapters: 12/12 Rating: Mature Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence, Different Sunshot Campaign, straight boy wei ying, Feelings Realization, everyone is slightly darkner here, hints of xiyao if you squint, but not yet, meng yao has a plan, Protective Lan Huan | Lan Xichen, Protective Wei Ying | Wei Wuxian, by which i mean they set the world on fire, BAMF Wei Ying | Wei Wuxian, it's not all tragedy i promise, Angst with a Happy Ending, Twin Jades of Lan Feels, duh - Freeform, POV Multiple, Lan Zhan | Lan Wangji Whump Summary: Canon divergence starting from after the Xuanwu Cave. What if it wasn't Wang Lingjiao who came to Lotus Pier? What if Wen Ruohan had sent Wen Zhuliu instead? The respectful, sensible Wen Zhuliu, who knows how to work the room… In which Wei Wuxian loses his hand (he gets one better), Lotus Pier is saved, the Lan Clan is said to be dead to the last man, there's a horrible banquet in Nightless City, someone accidentally plays Sleeping Beauty, and there's that awkward moment when you realize Meng Yao is the sane one (except not really). It's a dark, dark night, but the sun will rise eventually.

NOTES: This is one of my favourite BAMF WWX fics. It is VERY dark, and Lan Zhan is not okay in the majority of this fic but my goodness is it fantastic. WWX does get his hand cut off and then proceeds to be tossed into the burial mounds but his new hand and demonic cultivation are so rad. Worth it for the pain!

9 if you can't beat them, recruit them (228416 words) by moeblobmegane

Chapters: 48/48 Rating: Mature Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Time Travel, Time Travel Fix-It, Conspiracy, Spies & Secret Agents, Team as Family, Found Family, Burial Mounds, Temporary Character Death, Canon-Typical Violence, Pining, Morally Ambiguous Character, Rumors, Politics, Background JZX/JYL, Developing Friendships, Good Uncle Lan Qiren, Demonic Cultivation (Modao Zushi), YilingWei Sect Series: Part 1 of wwx time travels and accidentally creates a platonic harem Summary: Rather than mourning a future that had not happened yet, he would rather work with all his might to prevent it from happening. […] His aim was to fortify his home and his family so that they would never again be left vulnerable to greedy cultivators aiming for his genius. For that, he needed help. He may be a genius, but he was not the cunning manipulative man they thought him to be. No, that was not him. He knew who was, though.   (Or: Wei Wuxian uses a powerful array to go back in time and builds a secret squad to prevent the misfortunes of the future.)

NOTES: Another fantastic time-travel fix it in which WWX post the tragic loss of his husband and son builds an array to go back. In it he befriends and recruits the antagonists of the main timeline and fixes things. This was so good- especially if you like morally grey characters and want a bit of Meng Yao and Xue Yang redemption.

10 Song Unwritten (94846 words) by ShotsOfSunshine, Kytrin

Chapters: 20/20 Rating: Explicit Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence Relationships: Lan Zhan | Lan Wangji/Wei Ying | Wei Wuxian Characters: Lan Zhan | Lan Wangji, Wei Ying | Wei Wuxian, Cangse Sanren, Wei Changze Additional Tags: Temporary Character Death, Angst with a Happy Ending, Lan Zhan | Lan Wangji/Wei Ying | Wei Wuxian Get a Happy Ending, Fix-It of Sorts, Alternate Universe, cql meets mdzs, Transmigration, Parallel Universes, Yiling Laozu Wei Ying | Wei Wuxian, Alternate Universe - Yílíng Wèi Sect, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, References to Depression Summary: Lan Wangji knew what miracles were. He'd been given one second chance for happiness already, only to have it snatched away by an enemy he could not fight -- time. Now among his husband's research, he had a chance at another one, but to seize it he would have to take matters into his own hands and fight for it. Even if that meant the fight would take him to another world. After all, Hanguang-Jun followed chaos. And when was Wei Wuxian not at the center of chaos?

NOTES: This is a transmigration fic with a morally grey Lan Zhan. After losing WY he decides not to ascend and instead uses an array for another timeline. I will say head the warnings, Lan Zhan's father is vile and there is child abuse here so pleas ehead the tags it is very awful, it does have a happy ending though. Bonus for Wei Wuxians parents being alive!

11 Time Kept Flowing (201383 words) by notoneforreality

Chapters: 35/35 Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Major Character Death Additional Tags: Timeline? What Timeline?, Grief/Mourning, major character death is wwx, who comes back, Family, Canon Era, Autistic Character, Autistic Lan Zhan | Lan Wangji, Kid Fic, Jiang Cheng and Lan Wangji raise the kids, Co-parenting is hard, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, POV Jiang Cheng | Jiang Wanyin, POV Lan Zhan | Lan Wangji, POV Alternating, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, just realised 'major character death' is like most of the cast, but it all happened before the story opens, Canon-Typical Violence, Additional Warnings In Author's Note, at the top of each chapter, Golden Core Reveal (Modao Zushi) Summary: Jiang Cheng goes back to the Burial Mounds after the siege. He finds a ruined settlement and a feverish child. Then Lan Wangji turns up, half dead himself, and Jiang Cheng is not prepared for any of this. He takes them both back to Lotus Pier, because he's not leaving anyone to die on his watch, and they both need medical care. Then they just end up…staying. At least Lan Wangji is as unimpressed with the situation as Jiang Cheng is. (Jiang Cheng and Lan Zhan accidentally become co-parents and have to deal with the repercussions)

NOTES: This is the Jiang Cheng & Lan Zhan platonic coparenting fic I didn't know I needed. It was so healing and while WWX is dead for a good chunk of this he does come back. This is a fantastic fic if you want some hurt/comfort, mourning, and healing energy. I will warn it does have a lot of hurt and the Lans come under scrutiny (justifiably). But happy ending!

12 the past drifts away with the waves (58025 words) by thelastdboy

Chapters: 15/15 Rating: Explicit Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Fall of Lotus Pier (Modao Zushi), Major Character Undeath, Yu Ziyuan Being an Asshole, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Minor Character Death, Major Character Injury, Amputation, Loss of Limbs, Transformation, Alternate Universe - Merpeople, Fierce Corpse Wei Ying | Wei Wuxian, Kinda, Merperson Wei Ying | Wei Wuxian, It Gets Worse Before It Gets Better, Heavy Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, No Sunshot Campaign (Modao Zushi), Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Cultivation Sect Politics (Modao Zushi), Not Cultivation World Friendly, Resentful Creature Wèi Yīng | Wèi Wúxiàn, Undead Merperson Wèi Yīng | Wèi Wúxiàn, Fanart, Slow Burn, Getting Together, Revenge, Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Resentment, Demonic Cultivation (Modao Zushi), POV Wei Ying | Wei Wuxian, River Spirit Wei Ying | Wei Wuxian, Non-Human Genitalia, Dark Wei Ying | Wei Wuxian, Depending on who you ask, Monsterfucker Lan Zhan | Lan Wangji, Wen Remnants Deserve Better (Modao Zushi), Wen Remnants Live (Modao Zushi), Lan Zhan | Lan Wangji/Wei Ying | Wei Wuxian Get a Happy Ending, Sect Leader Wen Qing (Modao Zushi) Summary: The next time Wei Wuxian became aware of his surroundings and was able to form semi-coherent thoughts, Wen Zhuliu had just finished tying weights to his feet. Both his arm and his back were still bleeding and he felt as if he had been flayed. “Should I make it quick?” Wen Zhuliu asked him, offering a small mercy. But Wei Wuxian shook his head. “Give me your worst,” he snarled, his teeth coated in blood from where he had bitten his tongue at some point. “I will come back to end you all,” he promised darkly. “Very well,” Wen Zhuliu merely said and drowned him. Or: Yu Ziyuan cuts off Wei Wuxian's hand to appease the Wens. He gets drowned in the lake behind Lotus Pier and resentful energy transforms him into a river spirit. After avenging his own death, he finds his way to Yiling.

NOTES: Very cool fic in which WY dies by Wen Zhuliu's hand and becomes a creature of resentment. He turns into a very cool undead water spirit with incredible power. He saves the wens, has a child, and gets the boy in the end. This story is for the monsterfuckers but don't let it fool you, it is kind of tragic. I swear there is a happy ending but the pain is rough.

13 Bitter Plants Bearing Sweet Fruit (83099 words) by Kryal

Chapters: 8/8 Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Additional Tags: canon-typical horror elements, Worldbuilding, Desert, Misuse of Historic Setting, Original Character Death(s), Case Fic, aftermath of canon, ridiculously long author notes, Because I Have Nowhere Else to Talk Headcanons, Established Relationship, Nothing Explicit But Shameless Innuendo Summary: Patience is a bitter plant that bears sweet fruit. Lan Wangji doesn't know why Wei Wuxian is so interested in traveling to a city at the very edge of the civilized world. After Yunping, what secrets could possibly be left? But the desert remembers many things.

NOTES: Not going to lie this was a really cool casefic. The husbands go on a journey to the desert and solve a mystery. The coolest part was the difference in cultivation and belief systems outside of the sects territories. This is a healing fic- fantastic vibes.

14 We Meet at the Thousandth Step (315914 words) by Rynne, Admiranda

Chapters: 44/44 Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Relationships: Lan Zhan | Lan Wangji/Wei Ying | Wei Wuxian, Cangse Sanren/Wei Changze Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, No Sunshot Campaign (Modao Zushi), Cangse Sanren and Wei Changze Live, Rogue Cultivator Wei Ying | Wei Wuxian, Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Night Hunts (Modao Zushi), Genius Wei Ying | Wei Wuxian, Inventor Wei Ying | Wei Wuxian, Plot, Romance, Drama, Fluff, Strangers to married, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Unresolved Romantic Tension, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Developing Relationship, Minor Violence, Case Fic, Mystery, Flirting, Wei Wuxian's Canon-Typical Flower Flirting, Arson, There Was Only One Bed, Getting Together, First Kiss, Meeting the Parents, Resolved Sexual Tension, Resolved Romantic Tension, Wei Wuxian Is a Good Big Brother, New Relationship Bliss, Chinese Mythology & Folklore, Blood and Injury, Yiling siblings, Married Lan Zhan | Lan Wangji/Wei Ying | Wei Wuxian, Honeymoon, Wangxian's Baby Fever Series: Part 1 of The Different Paths We Tread Summary: As they both go wherever the chaos might be, Lan Wangji and rogue cultivator Wei Wuxian, eldest child of the famous Cangse-sanren, find their paths converging. Soon they'll discover in each other the perfect partner for night hunting…and beyond.

NOTES: A canon divergence in which Cangse Sanren and Wei Changze both live and raise WWX as a rogue cultivator (also he has a sister and it is wonderful). Lan Zhan and Wei Ying meet during a night hunt and then keep making excused to hunt together. Such a beautiful and wholesome slowburn with lots of the Wei family teasing. A healing fic for sure.

15 Dispersing Clouds (283284 words) by dreamingofcake

Chapters: 54/54 Rating: Explicit Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Genius Wei Ying | Wei Wuxian, Inventor Wei Ying | Wei Wuxian, Not Jiang Family Friendly, Abusive Yu Ziyuan, Canonical Child Abuse, Hurt/Comfort, Slow Burn, Eventual Sex, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm (Background Character), Background Character Deaths, child deaths, Good Uncle Lan Qiren, Accidental Baby Acquisition, Cultivation Sect Politics (Modao Zushi), Homophobia, Heteronormativity, Feelings Realization, Wei Ying | Wei Wuxian is Not Oblivious, Jiang Cheng | Jiang Wanyin Bashing, Jiang Yanli is Not Angelic, Jiang Fengmian and Yu Ziyuan Bashing Summary: While the Wen Clan is embroiled in subduing internal conflicts within Qishan, the Jiang Clan hosts the annual discussion conference. It has been one year since the disastrous archery competition where Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji last met but Wei Wuxian remains as optimistic as ever. An unlikely friendship begins to blossom and without the looming spectres of conquest and war to strengthen his ties to the Jiang family, the trajectory of Wei Wuxian’s life changes.

NOTES: Definitely a fic if you're feeling completely angry at the Jiangs- it is definitely not in their favour. Terrible Madam yu and equally appalling Jiang family (In that they do nothing and normalize abuse). This fic does feature an absolute brilliant Wei Ying and a smitten WangXian with a bonus of the Lans actually not being terrible.

16 A Heart Undying (114855 words) by NonsensicalRambling

Chapters: 26/26 Rating: Mature Additional Tags: Undead Wei Ying | Wei Wuxian, Canon-Typical Violence, canon-typical dead things, the burial mounds, Fix-It of Sorts, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Wei Wuxian probably needs a hug, the horrors of the sunshot campaign, Eventual WangXian, these boys will use their words!, No Yīn Tiger Seal, no beta - deal with it, Morally Gray Wei Ying | Wei Wuxian, Animals Eating People, Wei Wuxian's questionable choices, Morally conflicted Lan Wangji, Oblivious Wei Ying | Wei Wuxian, Wei Ying | Wei Wuxian Creates a Sect | Yiling Wei Sect, Yiling Laozu Wei Ying | Wei Wuxian, Sect Leader Wei Ying | Wei Wuxian, Lan Wangji & Wen Qing have an Understanding, if Wen Qing were being paid she'd deserve a raise Summary: No one escapes from the Burial Mounds alive. No one. Just because Wei Wuxian made it out doesn't make him an exception. He knows he's surviving on borrowed time until someone finds out, but until then he's going to make that a problem for the Wen. And if no one does find out, well, he'll figure that out later. If only he could stop being so hungry.

NOTES: Okay this fic is actually rad as hell. The premise is so cool- WWX landing in the burial mounds and DYING but transformed. If you like vampiric energy but also God!WWX vibes this is the fic for you. It moves fast but the plot is so cool.

17 Practical Considerations (96963 words) by teawater, the_anthropologist

Chapters: 20/20 Rating: Explicit Additional Tags: Arranged Marriage, Alternate Universe - Arranged Marriage, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Found Family, Spouses to Lovers, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, Politics, Scheming, Lán Elders are assholes, BAMF Wei Ying | Wei Wuxian, BAMF Lan Zhan | Lan Wangji, eventually BAMF Lan Xichen, learning to make decisions, Learning Self-worth, Self-Esteem Issues, Sweet Wangxian, Domestic Fluff, Fix-It, JC is a big asshole, he improves somewhat but it's open-ended, WWX learns to stand up for himself, Quote: Come Back to Gusu With Me (Modao Zushi), POV wwx, POV LWJ, POV JC, Golden Core Reveal (Modao Zushi), Teacher wwx, Golden Core Transfer Fix-It (Modao Zushi), Alcohol as a Coping Mechanism, Past Suicidal Thoughts Summary: After the Sunshot Campaign Wei Wuxian is fooling around in Lotus Pier, and Jiang Cheng decides that he'd be more useful to the sect if he was to enter a diplomatic marriage. Especially since Lan Wangji seems so keen on dragging him away to Gusu. Only Wei Wuxian doesn't expect any good to come from it…

NOTES: An arranged marriage canon divergence fic in which "Come Back to gusu" is a term of endearment (but WWX does not know this). This fic goes form WWX being married and thinking he's being punished to married and absolutely THRIVING. This is one heck of a healing fic- great ending!

[feelmyskinonyourskin]

Fight Club

Pairing: Matt Murdock x (AFAB)Reader (with platonic Frank Castle x Reader)

Summary: @hellskitchenswhore is killing it with the prompts lately. Per her request: Matt's freaking out thinking you might be cheating on him because for the last few weeks, you’ve been coming home smelling like Frank. What he doesn’t know is that you asked Frank to teach you how to fight and didn’t tell Matt.

Warnings: 18+/SMUT. No use of Y/N. Female/AFAB reader (use of terms like girlfriend and female anatomy.) Established relationship. Brief mention of an active shooter at an office, Frank and Matt using pet names like sweetheart, mentions and accusations of cheating but no actual cheating, Unprotected sex, Fingering, P in V, Creampie, and Possessiveness from our dear Matt. Sort of getting caught after the fact.

Notes: I started taking kickboxing like three weeks ago, so I like to pretend that qualifies me to know what I'm talking about (It doesn't lol). So apologizes if I got any of the terminology wrong. UPDATE DEC 2023: I wrote an alternate ending to this fic that ends in a threeway with Frank that you can read here

WC: 5,000

*I never give permission for my fics, manips, or any other original creation I post on this site to be copied, posted elsewhere, translated, or fed into any AI program. The only platform I currently post anything on is Tumblr. Thanks!*

“That’s it sweetheart, last round I promise.” Frank encourages you as you take swings at the bag in front of you. 

You’ve been at this for at least an hour and your arms feel like jello. You can’t remember the last time you were breathing this hard that wasn’t from Matt bending you in half. Jumping directly into the Hudson would have kept you drier than the amount of sweat currently pouring down your face and exhausted body.

“Atta girl, atta girl!” Frank praises as you take your last few swings, arms too weak to make any real movement of the bag

“Alright, you’re getting the hang of it now. Few more sessions and you’ll be out there with Red every night.”

“Pfft I don’t know about that, Frank. I’m just trying to make sure I can protect myself is all.”

“So remind me again why you didn’t ask him to teach you this?”

It started last week. One of your favorite coworkers was going through a bitter divorce and her estranged husband decided to confront her at the office and pulled a gun. You heard two shots ring out from your desk and feared the worst - all the active shooter situations you'd seen on TV were happening live in your life. Fortunately, as you fled for safety, Jerry from accounting was able to disarm and tackle the guy before he could hurt anyone thanks to his black belt in Jiujitsu.

Even though the incident ended okay, it had spooked you enough to get yourself some defense classes, for all those times when your vigilante boyfriend was too far uptown to protect you at a moment’s notice and Jerry wasn’t around to save the day.

Matt was always overprotective of you and you hated to think how he’d react to the incident, so you hadn’t told him. When the story hit the news, you lied (via text so he couldn’t detect it) and said it happened on a different floor and you didn’t even notice. 

You also didn’t tell him about your decision to learn self-defense. Matt was more than qualified to teach you, but for some reason, you just didn’t feel comfortable asking for his help with this. Maybe it was his propensity to throw himself into helping those he cared about, you especially, that gave you hesitation to give him another thing to prioritize over himself. Maybe it was just how good he was at fighting that made you not want to “be a beginner” in front of him (not that Matt would ever judge you about anything.)

In fairness to you, you hadn’t intended to learn it from his frenemy and former client, but you’d showed up at the boxing gym near your work and the gruff men inside intimidated you so much, you bolted out the door before signing up for a class, tears welling in your eyes when you quite literally bumped into Frank on the street.

“What are you doing here?” he asked, nodding towards the door of the boxing gym

“I thought… Look I want to learn how to fight. Or at least how to defend myself. This place is close to work but um… might not be the right fit for me.”

“Why don’t you just ask Red?”

“It’s a long story,” you replied with a sigh “but I really don’t want to ask him. Or for him to even know about it. So can you please not mention you saw me here or we had this conversation?”

“Okay, can I ask why not?”

“You can but I’m not gonna answer.” 

Frank chuckled and shook his head

“Well if you want to learn to fight, this isn’t the best place. I know Vinny the owner and he’s a shit teacher. But if you want to learn for real, I’m happy to teach you.”

“What? Wait really? Wait, Frank you know how to fight?”

“Sweetheart, I was a Marine for over 15 years, ‘course I know how to fight.”

“And you’d do that for me?”

“Course. You’re Red's girl. What times’ he leave for his little night job?”

“9:00”

“Great, meet me here at 9:30. Tonight.”

And that was how you ended up here, collapsing on the gym mat beneath you with a groan.

“Not bad for your first time. We just gotta get you in the habit of resetting your hands after every hit, and you’ll be golden” Frank praises again

“Oh yeah, I forgot, always protect the face so I don’t end up lookin like you.” you jest

“Ouch” he feigns hurt with a smirk on his face “Red teach you to swing low like that?”

“Nah Castle, that’s all me. It’s part of why he loves me. Same time tomorrow?”

“Sure. See you then.”

By the time Matt returns home, you’re showered and in bed, sore muscles pulsing every time you twist and turn in your sleep. Between the smell of sweaty clothes in the hamper and the scent of your freshly washed skin rubbing against silk sheets, plus the heat radiating off your sore muscles as he crawls into bed silently beside you, Matt figures it out pretty quickly.

‘She started going back to the gym. Hmm. Have to ask her about that in the morning.’ he thinks as he drifts off beside you.

You awake in the morning to gentle hands rubbing at your back. 

“Mmm morning Matty” you mumble, still pulling yourself out of sleep

“Morning sweetheart.”

“What are you doing?” you ask as he works a little lower down your spine

“Giving you a massage. I can tell you’re sore. When did you start going back to the gym?”

“Just yesterday. And you’re right I’m super sore. Thank you, this is a nice way to start my day.”

“Of course sweetheart. What gym did you go to? Did you have fun?” he inquires

His innocent prodding has you waking fully quickly, trying to cover your tracks without outright lying and getting caught.

“Oh this gym near work. Couple people in the office recommended it. And yeah I had fun.” 

All truths.

“That’s nice. Mmmm do you want to start the coffee or shower first?” he asks, seemingly letting the subject go

Perfect.

As you rush around to get ready for work, Matt grabs the laundry hamper from the bathroom, walking it over to the washing machine. Your dirty workout clothes from the night before sit on top, now less potent that they have completely dried. But he can’t help but feel like something smells off.

Sure it smells like you - natural scent mixed with your fading sweat, but there’s something else. Something familiar. A very subtle hint of spiciness mixed with… is that gunpowder? 

‘Weird’ Matt thinks to himself, but brushes it off a moment later, the smell not strong enough to really garner more than a passing thought.

But three times he does the laundry in a row, he smells it. It’s so subtle, he might not even give it another thought, but it’s just so damn familiar. 

It takes another week for him to ask you about it.

“Hey sweetheart, you’ve been going to the gym a lot lately,” he mentions over dinner 

“Mmmhmm. Yeah, can you feel my muscles growing? I’m feeling stronger.” you reply

“Yeah. What exactly are you doing at the gym? It’s really working.”

“Oh a little cardio, a little strength, you know…” you skirt around, being intentionally vague

“That’s good. Is it like a class or?”

“Um sort of. Just this guy at the gym, he’s been helping me. You know, walking me through the exercises.” 

Also technically the truth.

“That’s good. Well, I’m glad you found something you like.”

‘Okay, so that guy must smell like this. She’s close enough to him in a warm sweaty gym, so there’s a little bit on her clothes. Makes sense.’ Matt thinks to himself. But he still can’t shake the feeling that that smell is so familiar.

Two weeks later, Matt is out on patrol when he hears a familiar heartbeat on the fire escape a few floors down from where he’s perched.

Frank.

“You just gonna sit there all night, listinin’ Red?” Frank asks

“Very funny Frank.” Matt says, hopping down to Frank’s level

“Haven’t seen you in a while” Matt comments

“Been busy. Madani’s been usin’ me more.”

“Oh don’t tell me you’re going legit Frank.”

“Not a shot in hell, Red. But gotta pay the bills somehow.”

And then a strong breeze blows. Frank’s signature blend of sweat, aftershave, and metallic mixed with gunpowder from all the weapons he handles overwhelms Matt’s nose. Matt cocks his head in confusion. It’s so damn familiar. But of course it is, it’s Frank. How many times has Matt been on a rooftop with him like this, bs-ing the night away while monitoring the city?

After catching up for a bit, they go their separate ways, the rest of Matt’s evening turning uneventful.

He returns home to you shortly after 3 am, your soft breathing as you sleep calms him as he strips off his suit. 

You hadn’t met with Frank tonight. He said something about following a lead and you were perfectly fine with that, you needed an off day. 

Matt curls up in bed beside you, resting his head on your back and falling asleep quickly.

The next night, Frank is really putting you through your paces and you swear you’re ready to collapse when he finally calls it for the night. 

Per usual, Frank offers to walk you home when you’re done and for the first time since you started coming here, you accept the offer since you stayed a bit later than usual tonight. At least until you can make it to Hell’s Kitchen and within range of Matt. 

You and Frank make small talk as you go and eventually, the chill of the autumn air has you shivering in your still-damp-from-sweat workout clothes. 

“Here sweetheart,” Frank says with a lopsided smirk, slinging his worn jacket over your shoulders. 

“Thank you Castle. Always a gentleman.”

“Course, ‘specially for Red’s girl.”

You make it to 35th and 10th, close enough to home and hand his jacket back to him, parting ways with a nod and a polite “goodnight.”

The later hour coupled with the particularly intense session has you collapsing into bed without even removing your shoes, let alone your gym clothes.

When Matt returns a few hours later, the smell hits him like a truck. 

‘I swear to god Frank, if you’re bleeding on my couch again…’ Matt thinks to himself. 

But when he enters the apartment the only heartbeat he can hear is yours. He inches slowly toward the bedroom and rolls the door open gently. He reaches down to feel the soft lycra of your leggings on your body, careful not to stir you from your slumber. The smell of your sweat clinging to your clothes fills his senses, way more potent than normal plus that other scent you’re bringing home from the gym. Matt pauses to wonder why he thought Frank was here but then it hits him. 

Oh my god. The mystery smell from the gym you’ve been bringing home is Frank. 

But how could you smell like… 

And then the gears in his head start turning. And he feels like a goddamn idiot. 

You had been going to the gym. But not to work out. You were cheating. With Frank of all people. And you’d made the critical error of not showering when you got home. 

Matt begins to pace the apartment, rubbing at his chin as his thoughts move a million miles a minute about what to do. 

Did he confront you? Did he confront Frank?! What should he even say?

The sun rises and he’s still pacing and contemplating when his alarm rings out. He shuts it off before it can wake you too. He needs more time to think about his next move. He gets ready for work quietly and slips out the door before you awake. 

You find it odd you haven’t heard from Matt all day. When you woke up you saw his Devil suit in a heap in the living room and there was no damage to it or blood on it. So you knew he had come home and was relatively okay. But it was so odd for him to leave without a goodbye kiss or go this long in the day without so much as a text. But he had been busy with a heavy caseload lately. You finally break shortly after lunch and text him first. 

“Hey Matty. Know you’re busy but I miss you and I love you. Dinner tonight?”

“Can’t. Working late. Don’t wait up.” He responds

That was… oddly curt. But again you figure he’s stressed and busy. 

Matt on the other hand has been wracked with stress all day. It only took an hour of his constant pacing and fidgeting for Foggy to break and finally ask.

“Matt. What’s up?”

“I think… I think I’m being cheated on.” Matt confesses. He leaves the Frank part out of the equation, wanting Foggy to be as objective as possible about his response. 

“What could possibly make you think that?”

“She’s been going to the gym like every night for a month now right when I leave for patrol and she came home last night smelling like… another man. And she’s been smelling like it a little the whole month but last night it was all over her”

“So did you ask her?”

“Well no but…” 

“Matt you are literally a human lie detector and yet here you are jumping to conclusions instead of doing the rational thing and just asking her.”

And maybe Matt would have taken Foggy’s advice if he thought you were just cheating with your gym trainer. But this was Frank. And that made it all the more complicated. 

Matt decides finally what he’s going to do. He’s going to follow you tonight, catch you in the act and confront both of you together.  

Matt still hadn’t come home when you depart for your nightly workout session, but little did you know he’s there. Pacing on the roof, waiting for you to leave. As soon as he hears the lobby door shut behind you, he springs in to action, taking the stairs two at a time into the apartment and changing out of his lawyer suit and into his devil suit as quickly as possible, making sure not to lose your heartbeat now a block and a half away. He makes up for the lost distance quickly and is practically on top of you by the time you enter the gym. 

“Hey Frank” you call out as you enter

“Hey. I’ll be over in a second.” he replies from the locker rooms

Matt crouches down by the side of the building, just close enough to the windows to hear everything going on inside. 

You’re almost done wrapping your hands when Frank emerges from the locker room. 

“Alright let’s start with our usual, then you can have a go at me again.”

“I don’t know Frank. You really wore me out last night. I woke up still in my clothes and shoes.”

Matt knew it. He fucking knew it. 

“Tough shit sweetheart,” Frank responds with a chuckle. “And what did your boyfriend think about that huh? He got any idea what we’re doing here yet?”

“Honestly I don’t know. I didn’t see or hear from him at all today. Which is weird even for him. And no I don’t think he’s figured it out yet.”

“You’re gonna have to tell him eventually”

“No, I don’t”

“So what you’re just gonna keep sneakin’ around, becoming a prize fighter without him gettin’ suspicious? Shit even a regular guy would raise some alarm bells by now, but especially Red and all his … shit”

“Frank, I am not here trying to become a prize fighter. I’m just trying to get strong enough to defend myself if he’s not around to do it. That’s all”

Matt’s heart drops. 

How could he possibly think you were cheating? And with Frank of all people. He felt like an idiot. Like a total asshole. Sure you had lied, well, technically withheld the truth and he’s sure you’ll explain why. And he’s hurt if you wanted to learn to fight that you didn’t come to him.  But this was not nearly as egregious a stain on your relationship as he thought it was. 

“I don’t know. Think you should tell him. Show him your moves. Shit, you’ve gotten a couple good hits on me these last few days I’m sure you could give Red a run for his money.” 

“I am not fighting Matt, Francis.” You say with an eye roll

Matt listens for the next hour as Frank talks you through a few hitting drills, then the two of you sparring. Frank is clearly taking it easy on you, but Matt is still impressed by what he could tell of what you were doing. He absolutely would need to take you on to really gauge your skills. 

Franks's phone rings out just as you’re cooling down with some stretches. 

He answers and speaks for a few minutes. 

“Alright sorry to jet out of here but Madani has somethin urgent for me. You good to get home alright?”

“Yeah, thanks Frank. See you tomorrow.”

Frank gives you a fist bump and then disappears through the front door. Matt uses the opportunity to sneak in just before the door slams closed behind Frank. 

You’re sitting on the floor undoing your wraps as he finally speaks up. 

“If you wanted to opportunity to hit Frank, I’m sure I could have arranged it some other way”

Your spine goes icy cold at the sound of the voice behind you. 

“Matt… I” you stumble to explain. 

“It’s okay sweetheart,” Matt says, hands up in surrender before reaching up to remove his mask

“What are you doing here?” You ask, ready for him to chew you out for your little secret. 

“Alright if I’m honest, do you promise you’ll be honest?” He asks

“Yes.”

“I followed you here because I thought you were cheating. With Frank. And I know now that’s not what’s happening. And I’m sorry for not just asking you.” He confesses with a sigh

“Oh Matt. I’m so sorry that I did anything to make you think that. That’s not at all what’s happening here.”

“I know. Been listening all night so I know. But I have to know why. Why are you doing this and why didn’t you tell me? And Frank? Really?”

“It’s a long story. Can I tell you while we walk home?”

And so you do. By the time you make it home to your apartment, you’ve come clean about the incident at work and running into Frank and how he’d been coaching you the last few weeks, and why you were so hesitant to ask Matt to be the one to do it.

Matt is oddly quiet through your explanation but nods as you speak. He finally speaks up just as you’re unlocking the front door. 

“I forgive you. And I’m sorry you felt like you couldn’t ask me. But now that I know, I am curious…”

“You want to see how much I’ve learned?”

He nods enthusiastically 

“Fine. I guess since now you know you can join us tomorrow. If you want.”

“Perfect, I’ll be there”

He tucks you in to bed with a gentle kiss before heading out on patrol again, no longer clouded by doubts about your relationship. 

—

When you arrive at the gym the next night, Matt is already there, looking extra adorable in his gray sweatpants and messy hair. 

It’s all so familiar to him - the buzz of the fluorescent lights, the smell of sweat and heat, the gym mat sticking beneath his bare feet with every step. Just like Fogwells when he was a kid. He feels at home here.

“Hey sweetheart” he greets you with a kiss

“Hey Matty” you can’t help but smile whenever you see him after a long day “Frank texted me, he’s running late, but um do you want to help me warm up?”

Matt’s face lights up with excitement. “Yes. Okay. What does Frank normally have you do?”

“Two rounds of jab crosses on the bag. Three minutes each.”

“Okay, have at it”

You wrap your hands and begin hitting the bag. Not even thirty seconds in, Matt speaks up.

“Woah woah woah. Frank has been letting you hit like this and not correcting your form?”

“Yes. Wait, what the hell is wrong with my form?”

“You’re too far away from the bag. I can hear your shoulder joint rubbing every time you jab, which means you’re over-extending that left arm. Makes you put way too much energy into each hit, you’re gonna wear yourself out way faster. Here. Step closer.”

Matt moves behind you to help you correct your position, then lets you take a few more punches.

“See? More power, less effort.”

“Yeah. Any other pointers?”

Matt places his hands on your shoulders and places his feet right beside yours, pressing his body tight against your back. You never thought of boxing as particularly erotic, especially not with Frank teaching you. But with Matt’s breath against your ear, you can’t help but feel a chill run down your spine straight to your core.

“Go ahead, gimme a few more, I want to feel how your body moves. See just what else Frank has been teaching you wrong.”

“Matt…” the words die on your lips. You want to speak up and defend how kind Frank has been these past few weeks to spend the time to teach you, but Matt’s sweet whisper of encouragement has you forgetting anything else but him.

“C’mon sweetheart, don’t get all shy on me. You hesitate like this for Frank?”

“N..no.” you stutter, then weakly throw out a few more punches

Matt chuckles, knowing just how much he’s winding you up with so little. 

“Put a little more power behind them. Don’t let me being here hold you back.”

You try to do as he says and throw some real hits, but Matt is still pressed right against you.

God, his body is warm usually, but being flush behind you as you move and hit, he practically feels like white-hot iron against you. Your heart is thumping out of your chest, and it’s not just from the few minutes of warming up you’ve done. You know Matt can hear it and is going to play you like a fiddle. His own wicked form of punishment for not telling him about your training.

His hands drop from your shoulders, running down your back lightly and coming to rest on your hips. He plants a soft kiss right under your ear.

“You’ve been working hard. Maybe Frank does know what he’s doing.”

He places a second kiss a little lower down your neck.

“You throw any actual punches at him yet?” he asks

“A few. Landed some of them too.”

A third, fourth, and fifth kiss down your neck, working his way toward your shoulder. His stubble is coarse against your skin, sending goosebumps across your flesh, your toes curling into the squishy mat beneath you.

“Mmm that’s my girl.” he says, as he begins sucking on your neck, his right hand snaking around to your front, tickling at the top of your leggings.

“Matty” you chastise

“What?” he feigns ignorance

“Matthew. Do not start something you can’t finish. Frank will be here any minute.”

“You said he’d be late.”

“His text said ‘a few minutes’ and that was already several minutes ago.”

“Well I can’t hear his heartbeat yet, so we’ve got at least five.”

You want to protest more, you really do, but you just can’t resist Matt. 

Laughing low, he nuzzles into the crook of your neck, his steady breath against your exposed skin a stark contrast to the growing labor of your exhales. You spread your legs a little wider. He takes the invitation and reaches his hand fully into your leggings, using a finger to circle your sensitive bud.

You throw your head back onto his chest with a moan, his name falling from your lips in a breathy whisper.

He continues to suck on your neck as works at your core, finally sliding a finger inside you, then another.

You reach forward to grab the boxing bag for stability, Matt’s touch causing you to writhe enough that you’re not sure you’re able to stay standing without it. As you thrash against him, he inhales deeply, a mix of your natural scent and your arousal consuming his lungs. 

In order to get you exactly where he wants you, he keeps a quick pace, knowing he does not have a lot of time. His rhythm never falters, stroking you over and over in that perfect spongy spot inside you. It’s not long before you're coming apart with a cry of his name.

Just as your head stops spinning and you’re returning to earth, Matt is turning you around and connecting his lips with yours. So hungry to have you, he guides you back a few steps, never breaking his lips from yours, and pushes you against the wall behind you.

His kisses grow more and more desperate, sending an electric tingle down your spine, though that could also be because the wall behind you is made of mirrors and the glass is cool against the heated skin not protected by your sports bra.

As soon as you make contact with the wall, his hands are back on your hips, pushing your leggings and panties down in a heap on the sticky mat beneath you. His clothes soon follow.

You throw your leg up and around his hip, opening yourself to him. An offer he quickly accepts. A soft gasp simultaneously escapes both your lips, the relief between the two of you as he guides himself slowly into your wet and eager core until he’s fully sheathed inside you. Restless fingers reach down to wrap your other leg around him, now fully holding you in the air against the mirrored wall behind you. 

He repeats the pace of his fingers only moments ago and slams into you harshly and quickly, over and over again, desperate to feel you release around him again, knowing Frank could appear at any moment. 

God, your familiar warm heat is absolute perfection, he thinks as he continues to bury himself into you over and over again. You’re still incredibly worked up from your previous climax and it takes just a few thrusts for you to be close again. The way your body is clamping around him and tensing lets him know just how close to ecstasy you are again.

Matt leans forward and you can feel his quickening breath against your ear once more.

“Damnit sweetheart, you scared me so bad. Made me think I was sharing you with someone else.” he grunts as he continues to drive his hips against yours.

“No Matty. I’m yours. Only yours — oh God. I promise.” you whimper back, arching into him further.

“Good. But to make sure you don’t forget, I’m gonna cum inside you, right now and every single night before you leave. So I’m dripping out of you after every hit, every kick. No matter how much Frank trains you. So you remember exactly who. You. Belong to.” he growls lowly against your skin, pushing you even more firmly against the cool glass with every thrust.

“Yes. Please Matt — Fuck. I’m all yours. I promise. Please.”

He thrusts one more time before he cums with a rumble of your name, his arms tightening around you, holding you impossibly close as he releases inside you just as he promised.

As he grinds against you in just the right way to hit that perfect spot one more time, your own orgasm sweeps over you. Your nails dig into his back, holding on to him as you let go, his harsh thrusts now slowed just enough so he can keep the both of you upright.

He feels you release, causing a final low groan from him, slowing down his pace, as your molten pleasure fades away. Still consumed by him and the feel of him holding you close, you lean your head back to rest against the mirror behind you as you catch your breath. Just as you feel like fully slumping against him, he sets you down gently.

You don't even really register him pulling away from you until he speaks. 

“Might want to put your pants back on. Frank’s a block away and I don’t think you want him to know how I warmed you up before he got here.”

You open your eyes and see that Matt is already dressed, a smirk painted across his face as he listens to you scramble to put your clothes on.

Just as you’re adjusting your leggings back in to place, Frank and his large frame enter the gym.

“Hey –” he pauses at the sight of you and Matt in front of him, both sweaty and still panting a little.

“Hmmm. Guess Red knows now.” Frank grumbles

But then his eyes go wide.

“You wanna tell me what that’s about?” he asks with a point of his finger.

You can feel the heat rising in your cheeks as you turn behind you to see what he’s asking about. The mirror is covered in smudges that look vaguely like the outline shape of your body.

“We don’t talk about what happens at fight club…” Matt jokes as you bury your face in your hands in embarrassment.

My Masterlist

[kechiwrites]

decided to break it

toxic baby daddy!ghost x reader

part 4/?

synopsis: babies change everything, and neither you, nor simon handle change very well at all.

wc: 2.2k

cw: afab!reader, angst, hurt with no comfort, language, break up fic, abandonment issues, no gendered language, discussions and depictions of pregnancy. no use of y/n ever.

author’s note: im back <3, more tomorrow, or perhaps later tonight if i feel up to formatting on this hell site. for kitten, shia, nori, 👩🏿‍🍼 anon, and everyone else who cheered me up when i felt super down post-holidays

new to baby blue? start here.

"Fuck." You murmur, maybe for the fourth time since the 15 minute timer had gone off on your phone. The word doesn’t seem heavy enough to sum up how you’re feeling, but you give it a few more tries anyway, “Fuck, fuck, fuck.” The word 'pregnant', however, is the heaviest you’ve ever seen, latching onto your limbs and skin and dragging you to the floor beneath you. ‘Pregnant’ stares you in the face from the stick in your shaking hands, punctuated with a little smiley face you can barely see through tears. In the back of your mind you kind of wished you'd gotten the kind with the little ambiguous pink lines, just so you could pretend you didn't understand what two lines instead of one meant. Just for a little bit. Alas, the pharmacist recommended the slightly more expensive test, the kind that gives you a week estimate. The kind that tells you you've been fucked for 3-4 weeks now.

Every emotion you'd been feeling up until then cedes to white hot panic. It's hard to breathe in your little blue bathroom.

You wonder what he'll say. 

No. 

You dread what he’ll say. 

It’s nothing you two have ever talked about, not in the cold blackness of night, when he’d sat in your arms with his face bare to you and murmured every gory detail of his upbringing to you and not a goddamn therapist. Not the following morning when you’d sobbed your terror of the future, and losing everything you had into his lap. And certainly not when you had mutually decided you were “getting serious”.

And now you have to. You have to tell Simon you’re pregnant.

There's a pit in your stomach when he comes by that night, mask off and eyes warm, considering like they always are. You get swept up in how it feels to be near him, to have him crowd into your space, soaking your senses in his scent, his warmth. He kisses you gently, so soft it makes you want to cry. He used to say he wasn't capable of being like that. Not with you. Not with anyone. 

Instead of sobbing into his chest like you’re desperate to, you chide him about wearing his boots in the house. You take the time he needs to unlace them to memorize what being with him feels like in this moment, the last time things will be easy. 

He levers up and nudges his boots over to yours, where they sit side by side. Tears choke your voice again, and you’re praying it’s just a pregnancy thing rather than a ‘you being an unstable wreck’ thing.

“Sit.” You turn to the kitchen, setting your kettle on the stove and turning the knob to high. He hunkers down on the worn cream leather of your couch. You linger in front of your stovetop as long as you can, fussing with the mug Simon uses almost always, an ugly misshapen pink thing you’d made at a beginner ceramics class four years ago. It’s chipped at the lip, rose coloured glaze cracked, exposing the beige clay underneath it. Your hand glances over boxes of tea, back and forth over colourful labels that may as well be written in gibberish for all the luck you're having reading them. 

It feels like there's no air in the room, like the secret under your t-shirt is taking it all, vacuum sealing your room until your chest burns and your head feels like it's going to pop. You tear open a brand new box of earl grey, stuffing it back onto your shelf when the tea bag is sat securely in the cup. 

"What's wrong?” He grouses from the couch, and it’s only then that you realize your shoulders are hunched up around your ears. 

“I..” your stomach rolls and sweat begins to bead on your forehead. You can hear him stir in his seat behind you, shifting forward so he can peer at you from your living room. Saliva gathers in your mouth, and oh god, maybe you actually will throw up, it’s too early for morning sickness right? Unless the stupid tests were wrong and now you’re going to cover your countertops in the stew you had for lun-

“Hey.” Simon is standing behind you now, his hands gripping your shoulders, shaking you lightly until you whip around to face him. The kettle is screaming now, filling your home with that shrill, high shriek of steam from the boiling water whistling through the appliance's tiny spout. 

Somehow it’s still quieter than your pulse pounding in your ear.

“I’m pregnant.” You choke out, if only to stop yourself from retching over Simon’s socked feet. God, it’s like time stops, then it splits and cracks in clean halves. Into before and after he knew. Before and after his concerned expression crumbled into disbelief, before and after he schooled that disbelief into placid nothingness. And it’s not like you’d entertained the delusion that he’d be happy about it. But the silent hang time before he reacts is this terrible, hollow, unknown that tears up your insides and relishes in the shiny, red viscera. 

A gruff, quiet "Are you sure?" is what you get from him, when he finally recovers, and you try so hard not to let it bother you. It's a shock. A surprise. A loud bang in the middle of a serene night, a cannon going off in your face, a gunshot into the sky when you thought the race was an hour from starting. 

You try to give him a bit of grace. Still, the pit in your stomach grows.

Now it's a bit of a sinkhole.

"Baby, I wouldn't be telling you if I wasn't sure." You move to snag your fingers into the fabric of his shirt, to tug him close so you can hold each other, support each other, but he take a small step backwards, letting his palms slip from your shoulders. 

The sinkhole is a cavern, yawning wide, open and empty. 

You toss your hope and love inside.

“I need…some time.” He mutters, slinking out of your space, out of the kitchen and back into your entryway. 

'Time to fucking what?' you think, but hold back. You know Simon. You love Simon. And you remember where he's come from. What he's come from. You realize a second too late you should be following him, and when you stumble over the kitchen threshold, he’s tying up his boots, his broad back facing you. You try to peer around him, try to get a look at his face, desperate to gauge where he’s at. But when you notice he’s knocked your shoes over in his scramble to get away, to be anywhere but here, you stop moving..

“Y-yeah. Okay. Just..uh, get back to me soon okay?” you stutter, and wrap your arms around yourself, like you know Simon won't. Not with the way his hands are shaking. 

He doesn’t even respond this time. 

The soldier just stands. He opens your front door. And walks out. Leaving you in your entryway. Water past its boiling point in the kettle.

You don’t see him again until you’re four, nearly five months along, the bump under your clothes now impossible to hide. When you stumble into your home, exhausted from working, he’s in your living room. Sitting there in his mask at your tiny dining room table. Like no time has passed at all. Like he should be there. You realize you never did get your spare house key back.

“Get out.” you spit, blood boiling under your skin. 

"I know you're upset-" He begins, like he’s about to deliver a practiced speech.

"Get the fuck out!" Your tone is caustic, and you hope it burns him, hope it strips off all the facade on the rotting structure he is underneath.

"I never meant to leave it so long. This." He won't even say it. Can't even refer to you, let alone your baby. He stands up and becomes this big, dark mass in the bright space of your living room, black mask, black shirt, black boots, just a huge black hole that sucks up every good feeling you’d had in his absence, every ray of light that’d shone through the dark gloom he’d left behind. Nothing escapes his pull. 

He peers at you from the gap in his mask. The stark white skull stretched over his face mocks you, maliciously whispers in your ear; ‘Did you think you knew him? That he was honest with you? Open to you?’

And you had. You did. You thought you were making progress, building some semblance of a future, falling in love.

It makes you sick to your stomach to think of it.

"You want to apologize, take the fucking mask off Simon." Your voice breaks, and part of you hopes he hears it for the plea it is. Hopes he understands what you’re asking of him. Hopes he feels how bad you missed him, under the hurt and pain and bitter, bitter loneliness. If he would just take it off, just pull the stupid fabric over his face and show you he was still yours under there, that he’d make a mistake and he’s ready now, then maybe the two of you could fix it. This.

Instead, his silence, his stillness cracks open your ribcage and pours black ink over your heart.

Humiliation and anger simmer on your tongue. What comes next is shockingly easy. "Oh you can't do it, huh? Can't be a fucking person with me, huh?" You shove at his chest, and he takes it, staring at you with pain in his eyes. Like this is hurting him.

"I shouldn't have waited so long, but I-" he steps towards you and it feels so good to rip away from his touch. To step back from his advance.

"No!” You shout, and your face is so hot, skin ablaze with righteous anger. “Shut up! Three months? Are you out of your fucking mind?"

And yes, one month of that was deployment, you’d known that, you’d talked about it, together. One month of no contact. One month of sand and heat and blood. But the other two months had been that white hot panic you'd felt on your own, in that tiny bathroom with the peeling blue wallpaper he'd promised he'd help you strip and replace. The other months had been missed calls, and ignored texts and you getting bigger under your sweaters because unlike him, you couldn't just take a break from the situation.

“Get the fuck out of my house!” You shove past him, deeper into your home, spinning around so he’s closer to your entryway than you are. “Don’t you ever show your face here again, do you hear me?” You’re screaming now, much to Ghost’s visible discomfort. Good. You hope your nosy ass neighbours call the cops. You hope they physically remove his pathetic ass. You hope they embarrass him. (It isn’t very likely, of course. But God, could you dream).

“You can't just keep it from me.” He steps closer and you lament that he has you on the backfoot. It’s your space, your home and yet it feels as though you’re the one who’s out of place, off kilter and uncomfortable. You glare at him. 

“It’s mine too.”

‘It’ he says, and that bothers you. Irks you. Him calling your baby an ‘it’. 

“Give me a fucking break, it wasn’t yours when you left me, you couldn’t wait to get your sorry ass out of here when I told you. Now you wanna play daddy? I don’t fucking think so.” You dig your fingernails into the meat of your palms, leaving aching crescents in their wake. 

“And you know what? Maybe it’s my fault for wanting to be with someone who is so fundamentally fucking broken that he couldn’t fucking bear to show me his goddamn face until I’d begged him. Maybe I’m the idiot for thinking you could ever be capable of love, of decency. I needed you. And you abandoned me, Simon. You are a fucking monster.” 

The word hangs in the air, hovering between the two of you where it can’t be taken back, and it sure as hell can’t be forgotten.

“You are good at distancing yourself, you are good at killing your feelings. Keep doing that. Stay the fuck away from me and my kid.” You’re panting when you finish, and everything hurts, one of your hands is bleeding, your eyelids prickle with the pain of unshed tears, your throat feels strained and tight. He nods once, jerky and quick, before he takes an unbalanced step back. Then another and another, his eyes never leaving yours, like he’s looking for something, anything other than hurt and hatred.

But there’s nothing else to find.

He turns, opening your front door and trudging out, heavy footfalls bracketing short moments of gut wrenching silence. It feels final. But it doesn’t feel good. Not like you thought it might.

He’s halfway into his SUV when you scramble out your front door, shouting over your porch railing to him in your driveway. “And get rid of my fucking keys!” He stares at you, standing stockstill, before he gets in the driver’s seat and pulls away.

whew, nice to post ghosty-poo again

series masterlist here

support city girls, reblog what u like

[raquellemonsta]

Hi girl! Me again!

Still can’t stop thinking abt that amazing tobio fic that u did which I requested, I NEEDD a part two or like a timeskip where they’re datinggg. I’m dying to know what their dating life is like when their pre-dating time is already as hot and fiery as u wrote it!! <3 along w the media n stuff like they’re obv they’re gn be so slay n espesh u write it so i alr know I’m gn love it sm!! So looking forward to it <33

golden (timeskip!kageyama x model!reader)

here it is! I love these two so much. I'm sorry this took so long, oops. disclaimer: you'll have to suspend your disbelief, I know in the manga he technically was 19 when he went to the Olympics but he's aged up here so that both of your career paths make sense. I am very sorry if that takes you out of the story at all </3 I hope you love it anyway!

wc: 2015 words

(part 1)

your relationship with kageyama tobio is nothing short of a dream. everyone can tell just how in love with him you are, and he's just as whipped for you. the two of you are meant for each other.

it's what all the tabloids, your closest friends, and even your parents say to you every-time you see them.

you can't agree more; he's the perfect man for you. tobio is able to understand the weight of being in the spotlight, millions of eyes on you, and he keeps you grounded. he's been your date to every social event, awards show, concert, sporting event, you name it. at the same time, you both are always there for one another, even with no cameras around. tobio's your safe space away from all of the pressures of being famous (and just being human, too). he's anything but a pr relationship, that's for sure.

which is why you're so excited, today of all days especially.

your boyfriend is competing in the 2016 summer olympic games, one of the most impressive feats an athlete can accomplish.

even if tobio can be quiet, not bothering to talk about what it is he's thinking about most of the time, you know that this has been a dream of his since he was a little boy. it's quite literally the farthest he can go in the sport he's loved forever, and he gets to do it with his close friends by his side, too.

your heart swells with pride just thinking about it. you're so happy he has this opportunity.

the unfortunate consequence of it, though, is that you haven't seen him in two weeks. well, that's slightly dramatic. he's able to text you occasionally, but nothings the same as waking up in his arms. other than games, of course, he's restricted to practice and the olympic village.

the only times you've really seen him in-person are watching his games, where you have a limited time afterwards to hug him before he's whisked away from you to start the same cycle over again.

it's been very lonely without him. your friend even sent you a twitter post someone had made about how sad you looked and how 'no one ever sees [you] without [your] boyfriend usually'. you kind of laughed at that, both at the ridiculous picture taken of you and at the fact that the caption might be true.

you miss him so much.

that's why you're both excited and nervous that today is the very last possible match: olympic finals.

entering the (at this point) familiar arena, you make your way to the side designated for japan. your seat is pretty close to the front, but still high enough so that you can see all of the court. that part is important, since your tobio rarely stays in one spot when he's out there.

you pull out your phone, shooting a text to your friend and then one to tobio, despite the fact that he definitely won't see it until after the game. you're pulled out of your focus by a man with a microphone held to your face.

"miss japan! miss (l/n), are you excited to be here today?" he looks at you excitedly, camera aimed at your face.

you can never seem to escape the 'reporters' from random news sites, especially here. it's not too surprising that they want to know your reaction to your boyfriend being in the finals. you don't want to seem rude, though, so once you recover from the shock of being interrupted, you respond calmly.

"of course i am. i'm lucky to have someone i know and love playing, too." you smile at the camera, waving to anyone who will end up watching this (which is always more people than you think). you can practically hear gushiken-san talking about what a great client he has. 'so humble!'

"yes, kageyama tobio. his performance has been amazing these past few games." he looks at you, expectantly.

"i think his performance is always amazing, but i'm also biased," you joke.

the man smiles at you, the two of you going back and forth for a few more questions, mainly about you and your most recent projects (shouldn't they be focused on the event you're at?), along with digging for any possible hints on where you'll be modeling next.

finally, he thanks you for your time and you're left alone. your attention then shifts to the court, where brazil has gone out to warm up.

your heartbeat picks up its pace, nervous and excited simultaneously.

it's almost time.

when the japanese team walks out, your eyes immediately fall onto number 20. even his warmup is flawless. you barely register the time passing, gaze locked on tobio like he's the only man on earth.

the whistle, signifying the end of warmups and for the teams to lineup, brings you back to reality. this is really happening. this is what he's worked so hard for.

this is his destiny.

————

finals. olympic finals. a game away from total victory, or bitter defeat.

his heart has been pounding for the entirety of the last set. tobio has always been able to keep his cool during matches, but something about the pressure of the biggest match in the entire world has managed to creep into his head. it even cost the team a point earlier. a foot fault has rarely ever happened to him before, yet here of all games it would. tobio knows he has to put that behind him, though, especially with the score now.

28-27. match point. and he's up to serve.

slowly moving back behind the line, a chill goes down his spine. the arena feels dead silent, despite the sheer number of spectators. he closes his eyes, pushing out a final exhale as his ears barely register the whistle.

this is it.

his entire life has led up to this exact moment. his serve undoubtedly making or breaking the game, and his reputation. it feels as though the weight of the world is on his shoulders, crushing him and depriving his lungs of air. like sinking deep underwater, he's nearly swallowed whole.

a saving grace is waiting for him, in the form of you. he pictures your beautiful face, smiling up at him like he's the only man in the entire world. like he's invincible.

tobio knows you're watching him right now. what are you thinking? about that missed serve earlier, and how lame he is? no. that thought is quickly swiped away. he thinks of how you'll run up to him as soon as the game is over, win or lose, take him in your arms and kiss him like no one is watching. he can't wait.

with complete precision, he tosses the ball up, going through his footwork as if in slow motion. he's done this a million times before, and yet this is different.

at the apex of his jump, he meets the ball. he swears he can see you now, hands over your mouth, gripping tightly in anticipation. he's sure he's never slammed the ball harder.

the ball drills into the back left corner, shanked by brazil's opposite.

the arena immediately becomes deafening, shouts and cheers erupting from every single side of kageyama as he barely registers that he ended the olympics on an ace. his teammates are crowding him, excited (especially bokuto), and yet all he can think of is you.

the next several minutes are spent awarding the medals, kageyama standing with his team on the first place podium. despite this being one of the greatest moments of his life, his face lacks a visible smile. he's glancing around the arena, searching throughout the crowd.

a tap on his shoulder finally pulls him out of it, though he turns around to be met with the girl he was looking for, you.

his eyes widen for a split second before you basically throw yourself onto him, hugging him so tightly that you can feel the cold medal through your shirt. tobio's arms quickly wrap around you, and even despite the sweat you move closer to him.

"i'm so proud of you." you smile brightly, amazed by this man that you're lucky enough to call your boyfriend. your hands have found their way to his cheeks, thumbs at the edge of his lips.

kageyama's never been big on pda, but he just won an olympic gold medal and has the prettiest girl in the world by his side. he can let a kiss with you slide, especially when you're looking at him like that.

you drown out the cheers and ignore the flashing of several cameras, lost in your love for tobio. it's only you and your lover, locked in a kiss full of emotion and yet simply enough to convey your feelings.

when the two of you pull away, it's like you suddenly remember just where you are, and you feel slightly shy (which is shocking, for you). tobio, on the other hand, is smiling down at you. really smiling, the smile that he told you people always thought was 'creepy', but you loved because you know it's genuine.

unfortunately, the two of you are pulled out of your moment together.

"kageyama, that was absolutely amazing! how are you feeling after such an amazing moment?!" a reporter rapidly speaks, trying to be heard over the loud environment. unlike the one interviewing you earlier, this woman appears to be from a more official american news station, trying to get an interview from the man who won japan the game.

tobio looks between her and the camera, confused, before he leans into the microphone.

"i love my girlfriend," comes his very choppy english. you can't stop yourself from smiling brightly, the camera turning to focus on you behind him.

he pulls you away after that, and you shoot the reporter and cameraman an apologetic look before following after him eagerly.

"thank you, hon." you joke, commenting on his earlier answer to the woman.

he looks to you. "it's true."

you lean up to kiss him again, hands tenderly holding his shoulders.

"i know. you're so sweet to me… can i wear your medal for a sec?" you eye the big circle of gold.

kageyama can only roll his eyes at your quick shift, though he still ends up taking the medal off and over his head, placing it on you like you've just created all of the stars in the sky.

—————

"tobio, what flavor should we get? i'm stuck between strawberry shortcake and fudge brownie." you stare through the glass case at the grocery store, pondering about the endless assortment of ice cream.

in the reflection, you can see your boyfriend aimlessly looking around the aisle, before his eyes catch onto your figure. you catch his lips turn up so subtly that you'd have never noticed it if he wasn't the love of your life.

he ponders your statement for a second, before coming up next to you and opening the case, grabbing both of the cartons you listed. you look up at him, confused.

"why not both?" he turns back to you, small smile still present.

you smile brightly at him, entranced. he's so perfect.

"i love you, tobio."

"i love you, (y/n)."

you let yourself fall into his side (the arm where he's not holding the ice cream, of course), wrapping your arm around his back as he does the same to you.

on your way to the self-checkout, you snatch one of the magazines on the edge of an aisle, plastered with a photo of you and tobio after his medal was awarded. you skim the bubble in the bottom right corner, one questioning any talk of marriage between the two of you.

you jokingly point to the bubble, showing it to your boyfriend.

"what do you have to say to this, hm?"

tobio eyes it, quickly reading before he smiles at you and kisses your head. he turns away to pay for the ice cream, ignoring your question.

"hey!"

"patience…"

[end-otw-racism]

End OTW Racism Link Round-Up: Week 1!

We are now in week two of our action demanding that OTW live up to its commitments to address racist harassment & abuse, which ends May 31st! There was a lot of great discussion during the first week, so we wanted to post a round-up of some of the longer-form discussion/analysis that people have been sharing (we're going with posts on Tumblr, Dreamwidth, and other sites, as well as Twitter threads that are longer than three tweets). These are posts that we think would be helpful to consider as fandom engages in the necessary conversations about these issues.

If we've missed something you've written, we'll be doing another round-up of week two, so it's not too late! You can either submit it on tumblr, tweet at us, or email us at endotwracism [at] gmail [dot] com. We do reserve the right to only share posts that are in line with the intent of the campaign and that we believe are adding to the conversation.

Tumblr

beatrice-otter: Why AO3 needs to be accountable for reducing fandom racism in its internal culture and the archive [link]

pretty-weird-ideas: End OTW Racism and the “Fed” Accusations [link]

aretethegreattelleroftales: You don’t understand what EndOTWRacism is asking for here, and because you clearly do not understand it, you should have known better than to speak on it. [link]

vex-verlain: In response to the reactions I’ve seen to #EndOTWRacism [link]

unrealromance: I don’t really understand how people don’t know the difference between ‘whoops I’ve fallen into a racist trope’ and 'I am literally writing hate speech that is unveiled, mask off’. [link]

pretty-weird-ideas: Codification of a Living Document as a solution to Harassment on OTW [link]

indifferentvincent: RE: End OTW Racism Derailment [link]

elumish: In light of some of the backlash to the End OTW Racism protest, and particularly the concern that an anti-harassment policy would lead to abuse of reporting mechanisms or censorship of unpopular authors/ships… [link]

seepunkrun: How to Find and Attend OTW Board Meetings [link]

indifferentvincent: The people who use the excuse of saying ao3 is an ‘archive’ and so 'must preserve’ the most vile, intentionally racist fics just sound like the most privileged motherfuckers on the planet to me. [link]

spacebeyonce & pretty-weird-ideas: wow this is such a normal and rational thing to say about having a diversity consultant to help ao3 fix their bullshit. [link]

indifferentvincent: I have to assume this is in regards to my promotion of the end-otw-racism call to action, because I don’t know what else it could be referencing. [link]

princeescaluswords: Writing Doesn’t Happen in a Void [link]

mousieta: There is a place, a magic place, a giant, ever growing park filled with sandboxes of every color and shape imaginable. [link]

Twitter

spacebeyonceart: alright so I want to talk about this post I made two years ago now that the #EndOTWRacism ball is finally rolling. [link]

generalfrings: This shit makes me so goddamn angry, yall. [link]

eruthosish: One of the calls of #EndOTWRacism is to improve the AO3's Terms of Service and how the AO3 deals with fanworks that are part of an offsite harassment campaign, so I wanted to share a story about the only time I have ever reported offsite harassment and had Abuse agree with me. [link]

buttonthemdown: They've proven they can move quickly *when they want to*, but the fact the OTW hasn't made an official statement acknowledging their lack of action and pledging to do better sends a signal they don't care about their POC fans. [link] 

Clonehub7567 Seeing the reactionary dismissals of #EndOTWRacism from white fans who pretend to care about racism is reminding me of the backlash i/we got for #UnwhitewashTBB. [link]

hydrochaeris3: ppl who are worried that not participating in the call to action will get them labeled racist..... first of all once again yall are showing that you care more about what others might label you than putting forth tangible effort into caring for a community [link]

m_sketchyart: If you think that #EndOTWRacism is censoring your escapism, here’s a thought to chew on: why is being anti-racist a threat to your escapism? Is true escapism not also leaving racism, antiBlackness, fatphobia, abeism, misogyny, etc out of your escapism? /rh  [link]

lunedraws: Have you wanted to walk the walk and not just talk the talk, re: racism, in one or more of your fandom spaces? This is a concise and timely line of actions we can take. [link]

aliasmarionette: One thing I see a lot in #EndOTWRacism comments which are in favour of the status quo is assumptions about who we mean by fandom, and about the user base of the Archive. [link]

SapphicScholar: New profile photo while participating in the important fan-led campaign to demand that OTW make good on the promises it has already made to address issues it has already acknowledged as problems in the archive—that is, instances of extreme racist harassment and abuse [link]

Fansplaining: Since the endotwracism campaign has begun, we wanted to highlight the timeline they've put together about the OTW's communications re: hiring a diversity consultant since their initial statement of commitment in the summer of 2020. [link]

gwenpendrcgon: ive seen so much backlash over #EndOTWRacism which shouldnt surprise me (also majority of this comes from tumblr is also to be expected) but most if not all backlash received by this event is done is such bad faith and complete wilful ignorance [link]

fiercynonym: so op of the #EndOTWRacism post on reddit dm-ed me and the situation is even more fucked up than i originally knew???  [link]

kitschlet: seeing a lot of people confused about what the OTW can do to address racism [link]

generalfrings: poor AO3 maintaining a 'absurdly heavy site'. all that text! [link]

RukminiPande: Fan scholars should be paying attn to #EndOTWracism. [link]

Saathi1013: The thing to notice about all the assertions that people know who's behind EOTWR is like... Okay, there are a few things, actually [link]

buttonthemdown: If you think that victims of racism need to "develop a thicker skin" you're a fucking racist [link]

mousieta: if i could have people understand one thing abt #endotwracism right now is that This issue matters not because racism makes you feel bad, or uncomfy, or squicky but because racism is actively harming Real Living Breathing Fans right now. [link]

fiercynonym: okay so…you know how OTW has been saying, when asked at meetings, that they have a budget surplus of about USD $1 million? well…manogirl & i did some digging, and it might actually be more than TWO AND A HALF MILLION USD. [link]

runpunkrun: Speaking of OTW Board meetings, if you're interested in attending, here's what you need to know [link] 

Dreamwidth

satsuma: A Chronic Habit of Avoiding Responsibility? #EndOTWRacism [link]

bcgphoenix: I have a lot of feelings about OTW and End OTW Racism as a book conservator/general preservation person, most of which verge into tl;dr territory. [link]

killabeez: Looking at past archive policies [link]

nyctanthes: End OTW Racism (Fannish Fifty #47) [link]

chestnut_pod: Be more democratic, be more autocratic, OTW [link]

Other sites

Lady’s Weblog: End Racism in the OTW [link]

The Rec Center: #384 Final Thoughts [link]

Stitch’s Media Mix: I’m Supporting #EndOTWRacism [link]

[kitkatt0430]

So big shout out to SquidgeWorld for the news update acknowledging and encouraging the use of the tilde relationship identifier for queerplatonic ships!!!

I actually had a bit of a hand in how this one came about, which is pretty fun. (Story time!)

So a few years ago the Character A ~ Character B format was introduced over here on tumblr to represent QPRs. There is a post I know I rebloged a few times buried on my main somewhere about this and I'll have to try to remember to dig that up later. And there was bit of a push to try and get Ao3 to officially acknowledge the tilde or at least for those of us who write fic there start using it in tagging regardless of official acknowledgement and see what happened. And, well, what largely seems to have happened is that the tag wranglers have let us use the tilde, but there's been no official acknowledgement as the Tag Wrangling page for relationships on Ao3 still only discusses the '&' and '/' identifiers. (If there was anything official said about it elsewhere, sadly I must have missed it.)

I started using the tilde... two years ago? I think? And went back to update some of my existing fics to add in ship tags with the tilde. I still made sure to keep the Queerplatonic Relationship tags because those are still the best way to find fics that have QPRs included in them. And I've seen a few others using the '~' out in the wild, but discussion about it kind of faded again. If you knew, you knew. And if you didn't... there was always that Queerplatonic Relationship tag.

Then, about a year ago, I signed up for SquidgeWorld. I'd never heard of it before (which is likely because I'm just not super active in fandom outside the niche I've carved for myself; I admit, I am a bit under a rock at times...) but Squidge been around in one form or another since 1994. One of the fanfic authors I followed was moving their works there and so I followed and did what I always do on new sites I'm curious about - I lurked.

Fast forward to more recently. Fanfiction.net that I've been loyally using as my backup fic location for years after leaving it as my main fanfic archive... it's getting buggier and more unstable by the year. I don't intend to pull my fanfiction off it - I will leave what's on there up until the site collapses in on itself - but the day is coming ever nearer that the bugs and lack of tagging updates will finally make cross-posting there entirely too much of a hassle. And much as I love Ao3, I don't like the idea of only having all my fanfic in one place. I've seen enough archives big and small get destroyed over the years that no matter how stable or permanent Ao3 feels... I'm more comfortable knowing my fic can be found in multiple places. (Of course, the biggest hurdle for getting my fics cross-posted in multiple places is... executive dysfunction.)

I started finally cross-posting to SquidgeWorld recently and honestly just didn't really think too much about it when bringing over fics tagged with the QPR identifier. I just copied over the Character A ~ Character B tags and hit post. :D

But admin-squidgie over there - who I believe is found here on tumblr using @squidgiepdx (hi! Thanks a bunch for the news post!) - asked me about the tilde usage and what that was being used to represent. So I responded with an explanation about how it was a relatively new identifier used because queerplatonic relationships aren't really well represented by romantic or platonic identifiers. And then admin-squidgie got back to me to let me know there'd be a news post soon about this new identifier type. Which was so awesome.

While the wrangling guidelines haven't been updated on SquidgeWorld to note the use of the tilde yet (and could take a while, I know official docs always wind up being the last thing updated), the news post really is a very big deal for those of us who like to write and read queerplatonic ships.

For those of you interested in cross-posting or moving your fanfic to SquidgeWorld, I do recommend the archive. I've lurked long enough to see that the community there is pretty friendly, the interface is a clone of Ao3's so it should be familiar to a lot of you and is easily customized to make it more accessible (or covered in rainbows if you prefer ^_^ ), and (as seen here) the admin over there is open to helping make the archive an inclusive place for all of us.

And with at least one fanfic archive both acknowledging and encouraging the use of the queerplatonic relationship identifier, it'd be nice to see information on that making the rounds here on tumblr again. I bet there are a lot of aspecs who don't know about the identifier but who would be glad to know it exists and start using it themselves.

[xxwritemeastoryxx]

Postcard Marks the Spot

Author: xxwritemeastoryxx

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 3.8K

Warnings: Canon typical torture that's about it in this one.

Author’s Note: Soooo..... I lied. There's definitely going to be more parts to this. All because I can't control myself. And if the muse wants to see this through, then I'm gonna do just that. You'll need to read the first two parts of this to understand what's going on. Don't forget to follow @xxwritemeastoryxxlibrary and turn on notifications just in case tumblr doesn't notify you with the tags.

I do not and will not ever give permission for my fics to be copied and posted on other sites. Don’t do it. Don’t be that person that ruins it for me and everyone else.

Feedback gives me life and motivation for future things. While likes are appreciated, reblogs are gold. Seriously, if you enjoyed this in the slightest, please reblog ♥

Phantom Masterlist || MCU Masterlist || Taglist

Her throat was raw from screaming. If it hadn't been for the mouth guard she was sure she would have broken teeth from clenching her jaw tightly as the electricity pulsed through her. The numbness she felt once the machine stopped barely gave her relief. 

Fight it. You can fight it. The words she constantly repeated on a loop from the moment they first placed her into the chair. You are strong enough to fight this. You made it through worse.

"Who are you?" A woman's voice filled the air but she refused to find the source. 

This wasn't the first time she heard the question and she was sure it wouldn't be the last. It was a question to see how much of her memories had been taken. To gage how much more they needed to subject her through. 

Her answers varied with each time. At first she only told them to fuck off. Or occasionally she'd get the chance to spit in the face of the doctor that stood too close to her. The more they began to chisel away at her, the more her answers changed. 

Just a random stranger. 

The person that's going to kill you when I get out of this chair. 

An ex Avenger.

Y/N. 

Phantom

The moment the mouth guard was pulled from her lips. She panted out her birth name. The name she had barely remembered from her time in the Red Room. The name that had been taken from her the moment she sat in the chair for the first time. 

It was the name that held no real meaning to her anymore. She had felt more of an attachment to the fake name she had been going by for the last handful of years than the name she had been born with. Yet at that very moment, that's the only name she remembered. 

She watched as the woman standing in front of her wrote on the clipboard after she had spoken. As she did, she tried to remember how she had gotten there or how she even ended up strapped to the chair. The more she tried to remember the more her head hurt, and not just from the process they subjected her to. 

"Do you know who this is?" 

Another question they kept asking her before holding up a series of photos. Sometimes it'd be a group photo of the Avengers at a press conference or individual photos of each of them. Other times it'd be a photo of her original handler or several other faces recognizable through Hydra’s history. And each time she gave the appropriate answer to ensure they knew her memory was fine. 

Until it wasn't. It was taking her longer to answer. Longer to figure out if she actually knew who she was looking at. At the beginning she'd easily say their names without any hesitation. But as each session progressed, she'd fight harder to remember their names. Sometimes she couldn’t at all. 

A photo of Bucky was held up for her to see this time. By the looks of it the photo had been taken on a mission. His brows had been furrowed in concentration as he held a gun up, ready to pull the trigger when needed. 

There were plenty of things going on in the photo, but she could only get her eyes to focus on his eyes. How familiar they had been to her no matter how many times she had seen them before and during her current situation. 

With the familiarity came a sadness that filled her chest. A pain that she no longer understood why it had been there as she looked at his eyes. But it lingered in the pit of her stomach. But she knew him. Otherwise there'd be no familiar feeling as she looked at the photo. 

Her brows furrowed as she tried to get her brain to work. To pull the information out from behind the wall that is being put up. After a moment an echo of his laugh filled her mind. 

His laughter had been contagious the whole night. It was a sight she hadn't seen before and she was enjoying every moment of it, committing it to memory as if it was the last time she'd ever hear him laugh like that.

His vibranium arm had been holding several bags filled with merchandise he had acquired through the night. Y/N had enjoyed watching him go from booth to booth and taking everything in before deciding that what the vendor was selling was worth the price and bought it without second guessing himself. 

Taking Bucky to a smaller fantasy based convention for his birthday was something that he never once expected to ever do. But seeing the excitement on his face as he went through the whole day pulling her to the different booths that caught his attention had been worth it. 

For the first time since completely turning her back on Hydra, she got to really get to know who Bucky was. And from the moment she found the flier advertising the convention, she knew she had to take him. 

"You have no idea how much I needed this." Bucky said as he pulled her closer to his side and put his arm around her shoulder. "I don't know how to express how much I appreciate you pushing me to give this a chance."

"Seeing you this happy and excited is all the expression I need." She kissed his cheek before giving him a smile. "Happy Birthday Bucky."

"His name is James Barnes." She said a moment later as she lifted her head up slightly to look at the doctor in front of her. "He's an Avenger. Former Winter Soldier and hostage of Hydra, just as I am."

A small tsk followed by a sigh came from the doctor. Before she knew it, the mouth guard was being forced back into her mouth. 

She braced herself for the blow. But no matter how many times she had experienced it, her body was never prepared for the current of electricity being sent through her. 

At the sound of the door opening, the doctor didn't bother to look up from the page she continued to write notes on. "This process would go a lot faster if we had her book." 

"That was never recovered." A soldier responded as he came to a stop beside the doctor. His eyes moved over to chair the moment a new wave of screams left her mouth. "We can only go by the pages we've found that Pierce had copied during his temporary time as her handler." 

"And nothing has come up from when you captured her?" The doctor looked up at the soldier before checking the watch on her wrist. 

"No." The soldier responded. "For all we know she could have destroyed it along with the base." 

"What are the chances of inserting new commands?" The doctor asked as she wrote a few more things on the clipboard before nodding her head to her assistant, indicating to turn off the machine. 

He watched as Phantom sagged in the chair, panting. He had seen the fire in her eyes the day they brought her in. As she opened her eyes, he could tell that fire had been snuffed out. There would only be a few more times needed if they were lucky.

A small smirk pulled at the corner of his lips. "There's only one way to find out. "

___

It wasn't long after Bucky explained the meaning of the postcard that the team found themselves back on the quinjet. There was no actual plan of action or data to go off of. Only a destination based off of the location on the front of the postcard.

"What are the chances of her still being there?" Natasha asked, looking over at Bucky. 

Their destination was only a few minutes away and all of them, especially Bucky were getting antsy. They weren't sure what would come from this trip. For it being 3 weeks since the postcard had been sent, they expected to almost find nothing once they landed. 

"Slim to none." His attention was on the postcard in his hand. He hadn't put it down since Sam had handed it to him. His fleshed fingers would occasionally run along the grooves of her writing. "For her to send this, there had to be no other way of getting out of it." 

"Then why send the postcard?" Sam asked. 

Bucky’s eyes looked over the writing on the back for the millionth time. He could hear her words play through his mind. Okay, worst ever possible case scenario. He realized now that it wasn't just a random scenario. It was a just in case idea if either of them would ever need it. 

He now understood why she had done it. They both had a past with Hydra. It was only a matter of time until someone attempted to get them within their grasp. Y/N knew she would be the easier target with the programming still locked within her mind. 

This was her way of subtly adding in the details just in case something came up. And while the first stake out with the potential scenarios had been a few months after her escape from Hydra, she wanted it embedded in any way she could. 

"It lets us know where to start looking." He responded a moment later. "Someone could have seen something. Or if she was keeping anything with her, that'd be where she left it. If we're lucky, we'll find something that will let us know at least in what direction Hydra went."

"Not to be the downer on the thought process," Sam began as he leaned forward in his seat. "What if that is the only thing we have to go on? She's been damn near impossible to even get a trail on after she stopped using the safe houses. For Hydra to find her, they've got something we don't and any trace of that could be gone." 

That had crossed Bucky’s mind several times on the way over. Each thought process comes to the same two ends. On one hand there was a possibility that there'd be nothing else to go on. On the other, there was ache in his chest that screamed she'd leave something behind for him to find. 

"What is it?" She asked as she finished wrapping her wounded hand in gauze. Bucky's brows had been furrowed as if he'd been thinking hard about something.

"Your hypothetical today." He said with a sigh. "I couldn't stop thinking about it." 

She ran her good hand along her face. "Was it the Hydra question?" She watched as he nodded before she closed the distance between them. "If there's one thing I know, you'll always be free from them." She placed her hands on his cheeks as she looked up at him. "You're strong enough to fight without them getting into your head. And I'd be there guns ablazing to pull you out before they could try anything." 

He chuckled as he placed his hands on top of hers. "Humor me. What's waiting on the other side of the postcard?" 

She shook her head slightly, a smile pulling at her lips. "There’d be hope waiting on the other side. Whatever we have with us. My heart." They both chuckled. "If I ever needed to use Siberia, I'd make sure I'd leave whatever I could to help you find me. No matter how small or big it may be." 

"You just have to trust me when I say this might be more than just a postcard." Bucky said as he looked over at Sam. 

____

Once landed, the team had split up. Bucky took one look at his surroundings and gave the others several locations to search. Especially places he knew would have vantage points of the town. While any other time he'd willingly go searching for any sign of Y/N, he knew he had to be the one to go to the shop on the postcard. 

He, along with Tony and Natasha, began making their way through the center of the town. Vendors lined both sides of the street. And as the town normally did, crowds gathered at each vendor.

Bucky’s eyes had constantly been scanning the area. They never settled in one spot for too long. They were scanning for the shop or anything that could be lurking around. If Hydra was still around, he didn't want to be caught off guard. 

When the small shop came into view, Bucky’s pace picked up as he made his way over. He hadn't cared if the others had taken a second longer to realize where he was going. He hadn't cared how the bell rattled loudly against the door as he roughly pulled it open moments later. He just hoped that there was something. Anything to lead him in the right direction of Y/N. 

As he scanned his eyes over the shop, he noticed three things. One, the way a glare formed on the shop owner's face before his eyes widened in surprise. Second, was the empty spot in the aisle that Bucky could only assume once held shelves. And third, his nose could pick up on the lingering scent of bleach. 

There was no doubt that something had happened within the shop. He felt some relief that something had happened instead of coming up empty the moment he walked in. He felt it in his gut that she had been there. That the postcard hadn't led to a dead end. 

He could almost imagine the path into the shop she would have taken before she reached the rotating shelf of postcards. The back and front entrance was visible no matter where she was within the shop. Several aisles filled with anything she could possibly grab to help her. He understood why it had to be this shop. 

"You're the Avengers." The shop owner noted as Tony and Natasha began to walk towards him. Bucky followed behind shortly after and noticed how the shop owner's face quickly steeled over as if he was supposed to be that way from the beginning. 

"At least that makes things easier." Tony said  as he looked at Bucky and Natasha before looking back at the shop owner. Tony opened his mouth to continue when the shop owner quickly interrupted. 

"Are you safe?" Bucky watched as the man asked Tony. He seemed not to care about what Tony may have wanted to ask and it made Bucky curious as to why. 

"Safe?" A confused look formed on Tony’s face. "Of course I'm safe." Tony then pulled up a projection of Y/N. "Have you seen her come in?" 

The owner looked at the projection for a moment before shaking his head. "No." He looked towards Natasha. "Are you safe?" 

The three of them looked at each other for a moment before Natasha nodded her head. "I'm safe. We're all safe. We're just looking for our friend to make sure she is safe." 

It was Natasha’s words that clicked something in Bucky’s mind. Anyone else would have just given an answer about if they had seen Y/N or not. But this man had been intentionally avoiding any questions about Y/N. 

All he cared about was asking if they were safe. A question that seemed pointless given the current circumstances. But Y/N had sent him a postcard with a coded message. A code that had been tied into the steps he had created with a scenario she had come up with for the sake of making a stakeout easier to handle. 

The owner shook his head slightly before looking at Bucky. There was a look in his eyes, almost pleading that one of them knew how to respond. "Are you safe?" 

An annoyed sigh passed Tony’s lips at the words but Bucky nodded his head. "Pancakes."

"What?" Both Tony and Natasha said at the same time. 

"I'll explain later."  Bucky shrugged. 

A smile pulled at the shop owner's lips as he kept his eyes on Bucky. "Your preference?"

Bucky chuckled at the memory that crossed his mind. One that left him and Y/N tangled in each other before the smoke alarm went off. "Regular, but the burnt ones made the memories." 

The shop owner nodded his head quickly. "One moment." He moved away from the counter and made his way towards the back room. 

Bucky looked over to find Natasha and Tony sharing the same look of curiosity. Bucky shrugged his shoulders. "Y/N played this smart. Anyone else would have given you an answer about if they saw her. Not look directly at an image of her and lie before asking the same thing to the person standing next to you." He looked over at Nat. "He completely ignored what you said after asking. But when you mentioned we were making sure Y/N was safe, it hit me what the phrase was. So I gave it to him." 

Before Natasha or Tony could respond in any way, the shop owner came back carrying a decorative box. One that was decent in size but small enough to be held in one hand. 

"Your friend said to give this to you." He held it out for Bucky. Bucky gently reached out to take it from him. "She told me she'd only trust the person who could answer correctly. Said what was left of her life was in that box." 

"Thank you." Bucky said as he brought the box closer to him. His eyes never left the lid of the box as he had. 

I'd make sure I'd leave whatever I could to help you find me. No matter how small or big it may be.

Part of him was afraid to even look inside of it. If this was all she had kept with her, it added to the guilt that was already hooked within him. The other part of him wanted to know what items the box contained that would help put him in the right direction in finding her.

"Was this where she was taken?" 

Bucky had heard Natasha’s voice ask the question. But his brain wasn't fully latching onto the conversation as his focus was now on opening the box. 

"No. She killed two of them here before she left. Tourists saw soldiers take her down at the next block over." 

She fought her way out.That would explain the empty space and smell of bleach. Bucky thought as he placed the box and the lid on the counter top in front of him. The box had been filled halfway with items Y/N had put in there. 

At first glance Bucky could see some pictures. Pictures that made a small tick of a smile pull at his lips. A strip of photos from a booth stuck out and he gently pulled it out taking in the images. 

His heart longed for the moments the camera had captured. The smile on both of their faces as they looked at each other instead of the camera. How her eyes had shined so beautifully as she looked over at him. Or how he kissed her at the right time for the last photo. The first time he ever kissed her was captured for them in a small square photo. 

His face fell as that guilty feeling poked out at him. He hated himself for forcing her to leave. He hated that he waited so long to start visiting safe houses and leaving her messages. Messages that had been left unanswered as those safe houses stayed vacant. 

Sighing, he placed the picture strip back on top and lifted the pile of photos to stand against the edge of the box. Underneath the photos were a few folded maps. 

Maps of the different locations she had been in over the last year and a half. Circles and Xs were visible in certain locations. No doubt places she deemed safe and places to stay clear of. On the top right corner of the first map, her writing had caught his interest quickly.

If you're reading this, thank you for coming. You didn't have to, but you did. You are the only person who would understand the contents of this. Keep it safe. Keep it hidden. I trust you with it. 

His eyebrow raised as he lifted the maps. Beneath them were two journals stacked on top of each other. One of them he recognized right away. The other not so much. 

The one he recognized had been Y/N’s journal. One that she had kept with her on every mission, every vacation, and that she wrote in nightly. Her favorite color protected the pages she had been writing on. And by the simple glance of it, there were only a few more pages left untouched. 

When he pulled the second journal out, his heart dropped. The black leather journal stared right up at him. The white lettering on the front was bright against the cover. The journal is newer in comparison to the one that still occasionally haunts his dreams. 

His fleshed fingers ran over the etched lettering in the leather. Each letter he traced with his finger proved further that Y/N did her best to make sure no one could just come along and surprise her. She'd go down as herself and not as the asset they made her into. 

As his fingers came to the last letter on the cover, flashes of a red journal appeared across his mind. How he loathed the memories of sitting in that suppressing machine and seeing the soldier in front of him read from the journal. How a journal such as that one, and the one in his hand, had the capability to take away a person's free will in an instant. 

Phantom. The front of the cover stated. It wasn't a symbol like the one he had seen being used during his time in Hydra’s hold. A single word that held more secrets than a symbol. 

Every detail about her time as Phantom was sitting in his hand. Her trigger words, the torment and conditioning she had been subjected to, along with notes from her handlers about her missions would be within the pages of the journal. The one thing that kept her from ever falling into the wrong hands without a fight and he now had it. 

She trusted him with the very detailed past she tried so hard to keep hidden from him. Trusted him with the very thing that could be used against her time and time again if allowed. He had it in his hand and he wanted nothing more than to watch it burn.

Who asked to be tagged:

@lady-loki-barnes-djarin

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[whizzing-fizzbee]

Flowers on the Grave

Sebastian Sallow x MC Word count: 1,508 Rating: G Themes: loss, sorrow, love, friendship

Summary: After Anne's death, MC reflects on how far they and Sebastian have come since their fifth year. Notes: This is just a short songfic inspired by "Flowers on the Grave" by The Maine. Lyrics are italicized. (Is it annoying when people insert lyrics into fics? I can't decide. Tell me.) Definitely recommend listening to the song to feel the vibe. Not sure if I'll post this to my AO3; just kind of wrote it from boredom.

Despite the heaviness of the moment, the breeze comforted Sebastian Sallow. It reminded him of the person he was mourning because it was just like her – gentle yet assertive. It was a quiet, peaceful morning on the outskirts of Feldcroft. Though Sebastian preferred to stay away from his former hamlet, only one thing could bring him back.

“She loved daisies.”

Sebastian’s gaze remained on the newly erected gravestone but his eyes didn’t register any information to his brain. His mind felt incapable of any thinking, a stark contrast from his usual state of mind.

“She loved daisies,” he repeated. He didn’t know why the sentence was worth repeating, but it comforted him. Probably because it was a fond memory of her.

You lifted your head to offer Sebastian a small, encouraging smile. That was the first time he’d spoken that morning.

Feel the moment all around you. And the quiet that surrounds you. The time you have is sacred. Don't wait around and waste it. They can't take that away from you.

The pain that had seized Sebastian’s body and mind for the previous two days had subsided, leaving him with a new kind of numbness. This was goodbye and he wasn’t prepared for the finality of it all, but somewhere, deep inside the both of you, was a selfish sense of relief.

Anne Sallow was no longer in pain. She passed peacefully in her sleep two nights ago, leaving Sebastian as the sole member of the Sallow family and leaving you and Ominis Gaunt to be his support system just before the start of your seventh year at Hogwarts.

The three of you stood solemnly after Anne’s burial. Her grave site smelled of freshly dug Earth as you laid a bundle of daisies on top of the mound of dirt. The hush that settled over the three of you wasn’t new – you often sat in comfortable silence together – but it felt different. Sebastian felt different. 

Over the past two nights, Sebastian’s grief took many forms. At first he cried in anguish over his dead sister. Then his sorrow shifted to anger, something you were all too familiar with. Finally, he went quiet, which actually scared you more than his previous expressions of grief.

So you handled him the best way you knew how – with gentle kindness, but tough resistance when his words became too cruel or his actions too selfish. You held him as he slept and made it clear you had no intention of ever leaving him.

“I don’t know what I’m supposed to do now,” Sebastian finally whispered, his eyes still on Anne’s gravestone that the two of you transfigured together.

“You don’t need to know right now,” you said. “You just need to know that it’ll all be OK.”

Everything is temporary, even the sorrow that you carry. So tell me, are you OK? You say you are OK. I'm OK now I'm with you.

You reached for Sebastian’s hand to give it a reassuring squeeze, unsure if the gesture even registered with him. It didn’t appear to, but you knew better than to be offended. This was bigger than you.

This was a teenage boy who was forced to grow up far too quickly. He’d been pushed to make tough decisions, some of them impossible and some of them terrible. He’d seen things that many seasoned wizards will never witness. He’d committed the ultimate crime, a sin so terrible, he’d nearly lost everyone and everything for it. Now, he’d lost his twin sister and the only part of his past worth keeping.

You also had suffered loss in the past two years, but none as great as this. Though you had grown to love Anne like a sister, you could never understand a loss like this.

But Sebastian’s hand twitched in yours, a sign of life and a rush of relief. It was his way of saying he was still present with you. He didn’t want you to worry.

'Cause you don't plan life, you live it. You don't take love, you give it. You can't change what is written, so when fate cries, you listen.

“I’m glad she’s no longer hurting,” Sebastian said quietly. You and Ominis nodded, both encouraged by his willingness to speak. “And I’m glad she forgave me. I can’t change what happened and I can’t bring her back, but I can spend the rest of my life trying to make her proud.”

“She loved you,” you pointed out. “Even if her forgiveness took time, she never stopped loving you.”

“It was unconditional,” Ominis added.

And finally, Sebastian’s gaze met yours as you shared a knowing glance.

“I understand,” he said. 

And flowers on the grave of the child that I used to be.

Sebastian’s feelings for you didn’t come to fruition until your sixth year. Of course, he knew they were there. He’d anguished and fought himself over them since the day the two of you took down that troll. But you two spent your fifth year fighting something even bigger, so any feelings beyond your adventures to help Anne and to save wizardkind from Ranrok went undisturbed.

But once the dust of Solomon’s death settled and Ominis and Anne forgave Sebastian, you became focused on returning to a normal teenage life free of death, ravenous acromantulas and goblin rebellions. The only excitement you wanted was solving an occasional Merlin trial or dueling a worthy opponent in Crossed Wands.

Anne’s love for her brother may have been unconditional, but her forgiveness wasn’t. She made Sebastian vow to drop his pursuit in finding a cure for her. You watched him agonize over the agreement but his need to be on speaking terms with his twin prevailed and soon, Sebastian also returned to life as an everyday student.

That’s when Sebastian found life was becoming increasingly difficult around you. Not that he didn’t want you around – he wanted you around all the time, constantly, and that was the problem. His former thoughts of curing his sister were replaced with the constant thought of you.

Soon, he began fighting with the other boys who were vying for your attention until it all came to a head during Potions class when Garreth Weasley asked you to Hogsmeade. Sebastian sent him to the hospital wing covered in boils and when you scolded him, he declared that no one deserved you. You mistook the meaning of his words and during his panicked attempts to clarify his intent, Sebastian kissed you. That was the end of your reign as partners in crime and the start of your journey as two people who needed to be together.

It was summer when you told me that you loved me by the old creek. My ears had never heard that, tongue forgot the words and feet forgot the earth, it's true.

If Sebastian ever needed to conjure a patronus, his happiest memory was the day by the babbling brook. It was early summer before seventh year and he lay with the back of his head in your lap, reading a book as you gazed peacefully at the water.

You glanced downward at the boy in your lap, and though he couldn’t see it with his sight shielded by the book, you smiled. 

“I love you,” you blurted out.

The book snapped shut immediately and went forgotten at Sebastian’s side as his eyes darted upward toward yours.

“What?” he managed.

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes. How very typical. Ever since Sebastian had made amends with Anne and stopped obsessing over a cure for her, the boyish sides of his personality surfaced. Sure, you’d loved him through his dark intensities when all he could think of was his twin, and when revenge against those goblins had driven him toward dark magic. But his silly, often sarcastic and bemused side had become so endearing to you, you vowed to yourself that you’d do everything in your power to keep him away from that darkness.

'Cause you don't plan life, you live it. You don't take love, you give it. You can't change what is written, so when fate cries, you listen.

“I said I love you, you daft troll,” you repeated.

He grinned stupidly up at you, shifting upward to support his weight back on his elbows. 

“I heard you,” he said. “I just wanted to hear it twice.”

And then he scurried away as you tried to smack him with his own book.

“By the way,” he later told you, after you’d managed to catch up to him and shove him in the water. “I love you, too.”

And flowers on the grave of the child that I used to be.

That moment felt like ages ago, though it’d only been months. Now, that happy memory was temporarily replaced with grief for Anne, but as you stood over her grave to say your final goodbyes, Sebastian’s eyes told you he was no longer driven by darkness.

I was on the verge of breaking down, then you came around.

[goldenbuckyyy]

HOLD ON

Summary: The aftermath of Harry finding you.

Pairings: Harry Styles x fem!Reader (cheating together) Main characters x original characters.

Word Count: 4.1kish

Warnings: Cheating (Harry and Reader together), mentions of DOMESTIC VIOLENCE AGAINST PARTNER, mentions of blood, bruising, and cuts.

A/N: IM BACK!! I am so so sorry it’s take me over a month to post this part! I can’t even believe it’s been that long. I got into a bad writing funk after my last post and spend the last two weeks just reading and not even writing truthfully. But, thank you everyone for your patience. I hope you all enjoy. REMEMBER TO READ THE FIRST TWO PARTS!! Song inspo: “Hold On” by Chord Overstreet. 

Um, I’ve also reached 1.2k of you lovely people following me. 🥹 ily all. Thank you!!

All my mistakes are my own. Please do not repost or translate my fics on any other site nor this one.

I appreciate any likes, reblogs, messages, and interactions. Please message me your thoughts!!! It fuels me!

Series Masterlist || Masterlist

Harry doesn’t think he’s ever felt more afraid. 

He’s been afraid plenty of times in his life. More than he can count. He’s not ashamed to admit it. 

He’s not ashamed to admit he’s felt fear before. 

Off the top of his head, he was afraid for his judges response on the x factor stage, he was afraid for what was going to happen after they had lost, he was afraid when they went on hiatus, he was afraid when he went solo, he was afraid before he put out his first album, his second album, and most recently his third. He was afraid of many things. 

But you were there for every single one. 

And you calmed him down. You were his rock. His grounding statue when he most needed it. 

Every single time he had been afraid in the past, you were his voice of reason, and it didn’t matter who was his partner at the time. 

He knew you were going to be his wife one day. 

He just knew it. 

He was just too stupid to think you guys could ever be with anybody else. But you were happy with Asher and he was happy with Vivian. 

Or he let himself believe he was happy with her. 

Because you were happy. 

But at the end of the day, when he laid in bed and held her. Smelling her expensive shampoo in her hair when they cuddled…

It always reminded him she wasn’t you. 

But he toughed it out. Because you were happy. He loved seeing you happy. He could handle settling for second best if he still had you in his life and thankfully that was never an issue between you two. 

Now, Harry feels like a complete fucking idiot. 

Because if he had only made you his wife like he had wanted too, you wouldn’t be in this situation right now. 

He wouldn’t be going over the speed limit in the London streets if he had. He wouldn’t be holding back his tears as he thinks of what you had just told him on the phone. 

But who’s he kidding? 

His eyes were full of tears, threatening to fall down his cheeks, swerving through cars, not caring if he got stopped right now, knowing he wouldn’t pull over, and his entire body was shaking. 

His hands were gripping onto the steering wheel. So hard that it was almost painful, one hand was maneuvering the steering wheel, while his other hand was gripping onto his cross necklace on his chest. The same necklace that you had gifted him years ago. 

You had told him you saw it at a jewelers shop one day and decided to get a matching pair. He’s worn it ever since. 

His eyes dash to his cell phone that’s on the console, your name taunting him on the screen, and he keeps the call connected. Just in case you woke up. 

Once Harry turned into your secluded street, his tires screeching at his fast movement, but he stepped on the gas pedal to go faster. 

His heart was racing as he pulled into your stone driveway. He quickly parked his SUV, taking notice that only your car was in the driveway, and he felt his body fill with nerves as to what was going to await him inside. 

With shaky hands and stumbling feet, he ran towards your front door. He instantly stilled at the front door, gulping down the lump in his throat as he reached for the handle, and pushed the door wide open. It was unlocked. 

The house was earily quiet and it made his skin break out into goosebumps. Harry’s body was shaking in fear of seeing you, he quickened his pace, running down your long entrance hallway, and not knowing entirely where you were, he shouted your name. 

Peering into the open rooms, trying to see if you were in the first opening of the living room, and he was getting anxious when he didn’t see you. 

He ran down towards the second opening of the hallway which was your kitchen and instantly his feet skidded to a halt. His feet screeching against your marbled floor. 

Harry gasped loudly at the scene in front of him, a wrenching surprising sob wrecked through his body as his eyes scanned the kitchen layout, and he felt pale. 

It looked like a bloody crime scene here. 

Bright red liquid splattered over the white marble floors and cabinets. He could see it all over on the countertops, against the wall, and on the kitchen stove. Glass was everywhere that his eyes could see. 

And then he saw you. 

Another loud uncontrollable sob wrecked through his body as he ran towards you, falling down to the floor next to your unconscious body, not caring about the glass breaking his skin, his hands immediately reaching for you, pulling you into his body, and he tried to shake you awake. 

Rapid tears fall down his cheeks immediately, his entire body is shaking with his sobs, his vision is cloudy, and he pulls you into his lap. He wraps one of his arms around your body and uses his free hand to move your hair away from your face. 

He keeps repeating sun and baby over and over again. Hoping you’d hear him somehow. Hoping you’d open your pretty eyes for him. 

His eyes take in your bloody nose, busted lip, your favorite lavender sweater is coated with blood in different spots, and same as your apron. He notices your limp hands have glass in different places, your leggings are black but he can see different areas with small shards of glass on them. And your feet. Your poor blue fuzzy socks are drenched in red. He’s not sure if it’s wine or blood. 

His eyes move back to your face and he stills when he sees the hand marks on your neck. The fresh ugly bruises that are showing up. He looks up into the air, releasing a shaky breath, gritting his teeth as tears flow down his face, and he curses underneath his breath. 

Harry is physically shaking with anger and guilt. He’s so upset at what Asher did to you. He feels like he can kill him, but he shoves that feeling away and focuses on you. 

He doesn’t care that he’s getting himself covered in wine and blood right now. His free hand has specs of your blood on it now, but he keeps wiping away the hair and blood from your face. 

Repeating “baby” to your face and kissing your face to wake you up. The metallic taste on his tongue makes him whimper. 

“Hold on, baby. Just hold on.”

His voice is shaky, weak, and desperate.

So fucking desperate. 

He doesn’t know what to do. You’re not reacting to anything he does, but thankfully you’re breathing. He has no idea what Asher did to you, but whatever he did. He’s going to pay for what he did. 

Harry notices your phone next to you. He takes a shaky breath in and wraps his arms around you to pick you up. He reaches for your phone as he lifts you, tucks your limp body into his arms, sniffs hard to try and hold in the rest of his tears, and hastily makes his way towards his SUV. 

He manages to open his back door and gently sets you down on the seats. He kisses your forehead with shaky lips and whispers, “It’s going to be okay. I-I’m here, sun.” 

He drives towards the nearest hospital and prays to god that he hasn’t been followed by paps. 

The entire drive to the hospital is rapid with his eyes constantly moving to the rear view mirror to look at you. To make sure you’re still there. To make sure you’re breathing. 

Harry doesn’t hesitate to park in the “no parking” zone at the emergency entrance, he immediately starts honking to try and catch someone’s attention from inside. He sees a security guard immediately come toward him and Harry knows he must look crazy. 

He jumps out of his driver seat, reaching for the back door to pull it open. 

“I need you to get me some help!” The security officer is trying to flag someone from the inside to come and help him. 

The officer looks at him in confusion, “Are you hurt, sir?” The office raises his eyebrows at his appearance. 

Harry shakes his head, quickly pulling you into him once more, he hitches you up in his arms, and starts walking towards the entrance. 

“It’s for her,” he says as he continues to walk into the ER entrance and immediately he can feel all eyes on him. 

He ignores the stares, yells at the officer to help him, and starts feeling anxious. And he follows the officer when he opens a back door that leads him to where he assumes all the nurses and doctors are. 

He can see different people running around, helping patients, and it’s incredibly loud. Loud beeping noises and chatter fills his ears. His mouth feels dry and he feels sick. 

He looks at you in his arms, a soft whimper escapes his lips, and the officer brings him towards a ground of huddles nurses that are chatting about something. 

One of them is smiling at another nurse and when her blue eyes met Harry’s, she instantly stops, mouth drops, and Harry can see her lips whisper his name in shock. 

But then she suddenly reacts and rushes towards him. 

“Are you okay? What happened?” She asks, her hands immediately reaching out to touch you, and Harry’s reflex is to curl you into his arms. Away from her touch. He’s terrified to let anybody touch you, but he knows you need it. 

“I…” Harry starts, throat raspy, and he holds eye contact with the nurse, “I need your utmost discretion,” he states in a plea, but tries to keep his voice steady. 

Harry sees from the corner of his eyes more nurses rushing towards him and one of them is holding a stretcher. 

A male nurse tries to reach for you as well, but the nurse in front of you- Harry quickly reads her name tag- Lily. 

Lily holds her hand up to stop the male nurse and she then sets her hand on Harry’s forearm, giving him a squeeze, her eyes not leaving his, and she says, “I promise you. We will be discreet.” 

Harry nods, tears welling up in his eyes, and his hands are gripping onto your skin. 

“But… you need to put her down on the stretcher.. so we can help her. Okay? Can you do that, sir?“ 

Lily moves her body to angle the stretcher and Harry quickly nods. He walks towards the stretcher, he gently sets you down, and squeezes your hands in his quickly. His shaking fingers move the sticky hair out of your face as you fall limp into the stretcher. He steps back. 

Harry stands there, frozen in his spot, and watches them rush you away to an empty room. 

“I’ll take you to a private room where you can wait for the doctor. Or myself for an update, okay?” 

Harry nods as he follows her down a hallway, he starts messing with the skin around his fingernails, and Lily opens the door to a private room. 

“You can wait here. Somebody will come speak to you soon about what happened, okay? Do you need any medical attention yourself?” Her voice is steady and calm. It’s what Harry needs right now. Her eyes look him up and down for any injuries. 

“I’m okay, maybe… maybe just a wet rag, please.” Harry says, dry tears on his cheeks making his face feel stiff, and he keeps eye contact with Lily. 

“Okay,” she says. She’s standing by the door, gives him a small smile, and then reaches out for Harry’s arm. She squeezes him.

“It's going to be okay, Mr. Styles. We got her now.” Her eyes are sincere and Harry’s face crumbles in anguish. 

“Thank you,” he croaks out, covering his face, and turning away from her view. 

He hears the door shut behind him and the only thing he can hear in the room is his soft cries. 

•••

Harry must have fallen asleep after he had gotten himself cleaned up because he almost jumps out of the chair he was slumped into when he feels someone touch his shoulder. 

“Sir! I’m so sorry!” He hears someone exclaim above him. He adjusts himself into the chair, uncrossing his arms, and is confused about his surroundings for just a second before he sees your face in his mind. 

He stands quickly, “How is she?” He quickly runs his hands over his eyes to wake himself up. 

He recognizes the same nurse as earlier, Lily, and she gives him an easy smile. 

“She’s okay right now. A slight brain bleed, but nothing major. Don’t panic. It’ll heal on its own, but we’re going to keep her overnight to monitor it. Thankfully no broken bones. She does have a couple fractured ribs, but…” she trails off, her eyes looking to the side, and she looks nervous. 

“What’s going on?” His body fills with worry instantly. 

“She woke up, Mr. Styles.” 

Relief washes throughout his body and he silently says a thank you. 

“Oh, thank god. That’s good… that’s good, right?” Eyebrows furr when Lily nods, but doesn’t follow Harry’s breath of happiness. For a split second, he feels happy that she's awake and okay. But then Lily is rolling her lips in and biting the bottom one. 

“What’s going on?” Harry asks. His voice shakes. The anticipation of what she’s about to say fills him with dread once more. 

“Mr. Styles, we asked her what happened and she doesn’t remember. She might have a concussion or she might be blocking out the memory because of the trauma. She simply might not want to remember. It’s a way trauma victims protect themselves in these types of scenarios. It’s not uncommon.” 

“O-okay?” 

Lily puts her hand on Harry’s shoulder as if to comfort him for what she’s about to say. Harry feels confused as the comforting touch. He fumbles with the skin around his fingers in anticipation. 

“She states that her boyfriend would never have done this.” 

“W-what? She— wait— she said that?” Harry feels even more confused. He wasn’t imagining the phone call. He distinctly remembers what you had said. 

Lily nods as he continues, “S-she told me. She told me that he hit her. That he—-“ he stops himself from continuing. Gulping down the forming lump in his throat. He bites his tongue because he doesn’t need anybody knowing about his personal business. 

Harry slightly looks up to keep his tears at bay, sniffling slightly, and his eyes start to burn. He looks back down at Lily. 

“He found out about something… something she didn’t want him knowing and that’s when he did that to her. I-I swear.” 

“Mr. Styles, I’m sorry. But… If the patient says that’s not what happened.. then we have to believe the patient.” She almost looks guilty. 

“Even if she doesn’t remember it happening?” Harry asks in desperation, not believing what she’s saying. 

Lily nods with a small frown on her lips. 

“I can take you to see her, if you’d like.” 

Harry immediately nods and follows her down to your room. Lily knocks when they stand in front of the room and when Harry walks in, his lips quiver and his heart feels heavy. 

“Oh, baby.” He whimpers out as he takes in your appearance. He manages to grasp onto the door to ground himself from the way his knees buckle at the sight of you. They’ve cleaned you up, but all the bruising from your face and neck makes him wish it was him in the bed instead of you. 

You're laying down against the hospital bed, covered in a white blanket, with your head tilted back, but it only showcased the ugly, raw, and red marks on your neck. It made Harry internally weep at the sight. You have a machine on your right side connected to your IV and Harry can only imagine its fluids. Or maybe pain medication. He doesn’t dwell on it too long. 

Your arms are laying over the blankets and resting on your stomach. Your hands are delicately covered in white gauze, but only your palms. And he knows it’s because of all the tiny glass cuts you had. 

When his eyes land in your face, he wishes he could erase this picture from his brain. He pleads to the gods above that this is the last time he will ever see you hurt. He doesn’t think he can survive seeing you like this again. 

Your bottom lip has a big cut on it which is making your lip a little swollen. Your entire right cheek is bright red with undertones of purples and you have one big bruise forming on your left cheekbone. Your nose has a small splint on it, but he can see the swelling underneath and the bruising on the sides. 

Harry doesn’t even want to think about what you went through. 

It’s almost as if you felt his presence because you slowly tilt your head down and your eyes search the room. When you meet his gaze, your entire body relaxes with relief and his name falls out of your lips like butter. 

Harry is immediately at your side, wanting to hold you and touch you, but he stops himself.  He hesitates in front of you and your covered hand reaches for him. His hand immediately covers yours, warm with gauze but cold fingers, and he starts crying. 

“I-I,” Harry tries to form words, but his voice is muffled because of his sobs. He falls into the chair next to you and covers his face with his arms on top of the bed. 

Your hand is immediately intertwined with his curls and you're rubbing his scalp to try to calm him down. 

“They told me you found me?” You question and he cries harder at your voice. It’s raspy and hoarse. You don’t sound like yourself, you sound like you’re in pain, and he knows you are. It makes him cry even harder. 

Harry can only nod at your question. He lifts his head to look at you and you try to give him a small smile. He’s looking into your eyes, your beautiful eyes, and he sniffles. 

He ghosts one of his hands over your face and you almost want to melt into it, but you don’t. Because you know how bad you look and how every single part of your body hurts right now. 

Instead, you grab his hand in yours once again. 

“I’m okay,” you whisper with tears in your own eyes as you watch his red eyes. His green eyes are bright against the red, his nose is red too, cheeks are flushed, lips bright pink, and he looks beautiful. 

“Do you remember anything?” Harry asks between his sniffles. 

You roll your lips inside your mouth for a second and bite down on your unaffected side, eyebrows furred down, and you shake your head. 

“I… I don’t. I’m… I’m assuming someone broke in? Maybe someone tried to steal from me and did this?” Your voice sounds as if you’re trying to convince yourself this is what happened. Instead of the reality that Harry knows about. 

“Baby,” Harry whimpers out. “You called me… and told me Asher had found out about us.” 

“Asher?” You question in a low tone, feeling confused once again. 

“You… you said he hit you.” Harry gulps down the lump in his throat after he speaks those words and takes in your reaction. 

Your eyes almost bulge out of your head. Frowning, you exclaim, “Hit me?! Asher would never, Harry.” 

Suddenly, you’re pulling your hand out of his hold and Harry feels like you’re retracting from him. 

“Baby, I wouldn’t lie—-“ 

“Stop it!” You cut him off, crossing your arms over your chest, ignoring the sharp pain that runs through your body as you touch your aching ribs. 

His eyes dart to your stomach and back to you. 

“Are you—“ 

“Stop.” You spat at him, feeling furious at him for even suggesting that Asher would do this to you. Asher would never do this. Never. 

“Asher would never do this to me, Harry. Are you—- what are you— are you lying to me? Is this a joke? Is this some sick fucking joke? Maybe I did this to myself!! I’m fucking clumsy. I’m sure I just fell on my own. Maybe I dropped the wine bottle myself and tripped and hurt myself!” You cry out to him as fast tears start running down your cheeks. Your mouth speaks faster than your own brain. Spilling anything that would make more sense than what Harry is telling you. 

“Baby. Baby. Baby.. what are you.. what are you saying? Baby, stop. He caused your head to bleed. He caused you a brain bleed, baby. You.. you didn’t do this to yourself. How could.. how could you have done this to yourself?” Harry cries as he stumbles over his words quickly at you. 

“Asher didn’t do this to me,” you state confidently even though you feel confused about the whole thing. “Why would he do this to me, H?” More tears filling your eyes at Harry’s accusations. 

Asher didn’t do this to you. He couldn’t have. Could he? 

“He did this to you! He hit you!” His voice goes higher as his frustrations rise, his lips in a frown. 

“You’re lying!! Stop lying to me. Why would Asher do this to me, Harry?! He loves me. And I know you love me. You’re my best fucking friend, but you’re crossing a line. He would never do this to me. You need to leave. You’re lying to me. I don’t want you here.” 

“W-what?” Harry’s gaping at you, mouth dropped in shock, and a sob escapes his lips once more. 

“Go. Now! I don’t want to look at you!” You turn away from him, sniffling, and wiping your tears away. 

“You can’t be serious, Y/N. Listen to yourself,” he tries to plead with you as he tries to reach for your hand, but you turn your body to move. Ignoring the pain it causes you. You don’t look at him. 

“Leave,” you demand once more. Ignoring his cries and his words. 

“O-okay, baby. I’m going to leave. But… but… please. Please try to remember my love. Please,” he begs you. 

You don’t say anything. You just stare out the window until you hear him get up and leave. You sit in silence for a couple minutes. Trying to think about everything he said. You wipe away your tears and reach for the call light to call for your nurse. 

You press the red button and adjust yourself to relax against the mattress, trying to inhale a deep breath, and Lily comes into the room. 

“Hi, love. Did you call? Need some help?” 

“Yes, Lily. I did. Harry gave you my phone, right?” 

“He did.”

“Okay,” you make eye contact with her. “Can you please call the person under the name of Asher? Can you let him know what’s happened and where I am? The code is 0509.”

A look of uncertainty flashes over Lily’s face, but she quickly controls her reaction. You don’t question it because she nods quickly right after. 

“Of course, Mrs. Y/L/N.” She smiles at you, “I’ll be right back.” 

Lily leaves the room and you close your eyes for a second. 

You try to unclear your mind, trying to remember what happened, and flashes of what happened play out. 

You see the wine bottle falling down onto the floor loudly.

You see yourself crawling into the corner and the feeling of true terror fills your body at the memory. 

You can see yourself begging the person to stop, but you can’t see their face. 

Your face crumbles in frustration at not being able to remember the one most important detail. 

You sigh, opening your eyes, and you decide to wait for Asher to walk through the door. 

Maybe he can help you remember. Maybe he’s spoken to the police and maybe they’ve already found the person who did this. 

But there’s also a part of you wondering why he isn’t here right now. Wouldn’t he have found you after coming home from work? Maybe he had to work late. 

You shake your head at the intrusive thoughts. 

You try to relax once again, trying not to feel bad for kicking Harry out, but you know Asher would have never done this to you. 

He would have never. 

[bloggingboutburgers]

I'm here to bonce back on the "non tagging x reader content" when... Shippers do the EXACT same thing and get no flacks in returns?

ESPECIALLY mlm ones?

I mean why even bother? You either drool over those two men kissing or you're just a raging homophobe! Simple as that ! 😌 😇

You have no idea of the numbers of shipper accounts i had to block because they posted content for that ship that i hate without tagging it as shipping. And nobody bats an eye, everyone is cool with that because everyone ASSUMES you're into this.

And then they say shits like "Wow x reader is such a HATE CRIME am I right?" And everyone's agreed with them and you can't say shit in response because all the fandom back them up. (True story, i wish i made that one up)

And as a sex/romance repulsed aroace woman who's only comfortable with x reader fanfics to safely explore those complicated feeling the fuck am I supposed to do? I would get gutted on the street by the entire fandom.

And before everyone slash my throat : everyone should tag their content. No matter what it is. Shipping, x reader, whatever...

But why everyone is so comfortable shitting on the x reader community while the shippers get to do everything they want without any pushback????

Like idk how to say it, all the goods the x reader community gave me. Its the only community who accepted me in ANY fandoms i have been as an aroace woman, all the rest of the fandoms bullied me and tried to chase me away because i """"shipped myself""""" with male characters i saw as aroace coded too. The x reader community welcomed me and helped me carve my own space while the rest gave me fucking slack because I saw those characters as aroace instead of gay. (Because it is apparently the only valid queer interprétation ever)

Like fuck man...

This community is the only one who accepted to listen to me rambling about how those character were aroace coded and cheered for me writing about them while i was bullied off my first account because i did not agree with the popular ship.

I met more aroace people writing nsfw/romantic fics (YES I TAG THEM ALL) about those characters than i ever met in my entire life. HELL, each and every single Friend I made on this site came to me to thank me for my writing and they ALL turned out to be sex/romance repulsed aroace people.

TLDR : why is it always the x reader community that get flacked for doing something the shippers do since the very begining of fandoms without any repercussion?

Its getting old.

Sincerely an aroace sex/romance woman that will never let go of her x reader fanfics.

...OK ima be honest on that one

Personally I don't dig shipping OR xreader, I kinda put them in a "nope don't wanna read it" same bag

So yeah I don't get why people wouldn't see them on a same scale of value.

Literally people like different things and some would rather read different things and some wouldn't and everything's fine let's seriously just tag stuff to make our life easier and stop judging each other.

The absolute state of all of this. Jeeeeesus. That's part of why I don't even bother in fanfiction spaces anymore. That and the fac there's hardly ever anything that'd interest me anyway, I guess.